


My Place to Land

by lady_mab



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bodyguard, Other, Slow Burn, all other major characters appear, in which i wrote the most self-indulgent novel for my rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 85,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_mab/pseuds/lady_mab
Summary: While on a job for Advent, Echo is arrested by the Beloved Dust and turned over to Excerpt Signet for trial. She offers them a choice: To serve as her bodyguard, or to serve a term in the Thyrsian guard.They thought being a bodyguard for the last remaining Excerpt would be easy. Instead, they find themself wrapped up the politics of a swiftly crumbling society, and have to decide between Advent's vision of the future, or a system that has never cared for them, and the woman who wants to change it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news arrives before the sun even crests the horizon. 
> 
> _Empyrean has been lost. Hull compromised by the scavengers. Status of Excerpt Blooming is unknown, presumed dead._
> 
> _Official brief to follow._
> 
> _Signet—be safe._
> 
> They Marked Scars of Light in Pitch; Born in Fiercest Purpose and Beheld as the Signet Sealed Upon Our Pact, the final surviving Excerpt, turns her face into her pillow and weeps.

The city is quiet in early morning slumber, and Echo's footsteps ricochet off the concrete and metal walls of the twisting streets like gunshots. Stealth is no longer a priority. They just need to get out of Big Garage, and then they will be able to slow.

They angle their sights towards the city wall and run.

Pursuit sounds, distantly, at their back. Not close enough to be a concern, but still present. Still persistent.

Echo's ears pick up the sound of voices, but it's a pre-recorded message. It's fuzzy, barely audible. A newstand, cycling the stories for the day.

Shit, it's later than they thought. Soon, people will start pouring into the streets.

On one hand, it'll be easier to blend in. On the other, more eyes on them increases the risk of being caught.

They round a corner, and the video over the newstand flashes bright in the dying streetlights.

_ Another Advent strike. Empyrean has fallen. Reports are still uncertain as to the whereabouts of—  _

They clamber up a wall, using a dumpster to give them a boost, and the rest of the newscaster's voice is lost as they drop down the other side.

A moment, then two, to catch their breath. It is blissfully silent, save for the pounding of their heart.

_ Get in, do the job, get out. _

That's all this is.

_ Get in, get out. _

_ Don't worry about the news. Don't worry about Ballad. _

They repeat the mantra in their head as they consult their mental map of the city. They're a little turned around—having taken streets at random to try and throw off the pursuers. But it should be easy from here.

The wall  _ is so  _ close. 

They’ll make it out of here. They know they will. They know they _have to_. 

Ballad expects them to, and they won’t let him down. 

Echo reaches over their shoulder and touches the hilt of Elegy, comforted by the weight of their sword on their back. 

When they start again, they take care to keep their footsteps soft and measured. Echo turns of the collar of their jacket, wishing for a moment that they worse something less conspicuous than something embroidered with a tiger and eagle.

Or maybe didn't insist on bringing their sword along 'just in case'.

By the Tides, maybe they were as childish as everyone seemed to think.

Echo's momentary distraction is broken by a loud, clear whistle. They swear beneath their breath, picking up their pace.

The sounds of pursuit start to fill the empty streets with alarming frequency. No matter which direction they turn, or which wall they clamber over, there is someone close behind. The closer they get to the city limit, the more frantic the shouts become. 

Lights are flickering on across the streets—people roused by the alarm, or business ready to open. 

They make a turn, one street too early, or too late, they don’t know. Instead of the throughway, the one that would give them a nearly clean shot to freedom, they stumble into an alley. 

Dead end. 

Dead  _ fucking _ end. 

They should have known. 

Echo heaves a sigh, sizing up the wall—piping, hand and foot holds, roof access. Anything. Anything to give them a chance. 

Footsteps, barely audible. A gentle, stalking  _ tap tap tap _ that freezes as a shadow tumbles to meet them. 

They turn. 

She stands silhouetted by the early morning light at the mouth of the alley. Their eyes meet—or at least, Echo thinks they do, because her face is hard to make out with the sun behind her. Her frame is slight, decked in a one-piece of light blue. Pale gold hair is piled at the top of her head, glowing in the light, and for a moment, Echo doesn’t know how to react. 

They take a step forward, and she tenses. Weight shifts from her back foot, retreating a half-pace. Voices call from somewhere else, and she turns to look. There’s something in her stance that makes Echo wonder if she’s also on the run. 

The mouth of the alley is wide enough. 

They make a run for it. 

The woman moves, too quick for them to catch the intention, but instinct takes over and they dart to the other side as they pass her. She lets out a sound of surprise, and they hear her stumble. 

Echo allows themself a smirk. Wait until the others— 

Something wraps around their ankle and tugs their leg out from under them. 

They hit the ground hard, knocking their head against the cobbled path. There’s blue fabric twined around their ankle, and when they look up, vision swimming, they see the woman pushing herself to her feet. 

Her face is visible now, and she doesn’t quite grin, doesn’t quite smirk, but there is amusement written all over her features. 

And that’s when they see the small silver badge pinned to the lapel of her coverall. 

A member of the Beloved. 

Of course she is. 

The woman draws in the sash with ease, and drags Echo across the floor towards her. The one-piece hides whatever muscles she must have. She twines her leg around the fabric and pins it to the ground beneath her foot. 

She lifts a hand to her throat and presses a slender finger to the badge. “Pitch to Steady.” Her gaze flicks to Echo’s, and something sparks in her eyes that makes their breath catch. She studies them for a moment before saying, “I’ve caught the culprit.” 

They take a moment to struggle, testing the sash around their ankle. Their fingers slip and scramble over the silken fabric, trying to find any sort of purchase to loosen its hold on them. They can’t draw Elegy here, even if it would make escape easier. She might retaliate as soon as she sees the weapon, and they don’t know if they would be able to turn the blade against her. 

It takes a second before they realize that the sash is actually tightening—which only becomes apparent when they almost get their finger caught in it. Echo yelps and pulls their hand away before dropping back onto their elbows to reconsider their approach. 

The woman laughs at something only she can hear. She must still be talking to someone, though they can’t see any sort of communicator or wires. Only the silver badge. 

Echo studies the tension in the fabric and the casual stance the woman has. She didn’t seem to notice as they attempted to unwrap their leg. It should be easy to catch her off guard. 

They wait until she is engrossed in her conversation, watching the lines of her face flicker from amused to serious. And when the words, “I’m fine, Chrysalis,” leave her mouth on a sigh, Echo kicks out their free leg. 

Their foot connects with the tight line of the sash that leads back to her grip. It strains, then gives as they flip over onto their knees. The fabric tangles around their legs as they struggle away, not even bothering to regain their footing. 

“Wait—” the woman shouts, but the sash doesn’t lash out again. 

Echo lurches to their feet and manages to get two unsteady steps before they collide with a solid wall. A grunt escapes them as they tumble back onto the ground. 

Before they can even process what happened, a hand grabs their arm and twists it behind their back. The sheath is yanked free, and it clatters against the asphalt as it is cast aside. They’re shoved face-first into the ground and a weight presses down on them. 

“What was that about being fine, Pitch?” A man’s voice, coming from the person pinning them down. There’s a trace of annoyance in his tone, underlined with teasing. 

“I had it under control,” the woman replies, and her feet come into Echo’s view. “In that I knew you wouldn’t be far behind, Chrysalis.” There’s a snort from the man, and then the woman’s face comes into view as she crouches down before Echo. She tilts her head one way, then the other, studying their face with unabashed curiosity. “You almost got away from us there.” 

Echo tries to squirm, but the man holding them doesn’t give an inch. “Tell this oaf to get off me and maybe the next time I will.” 

Her expression shifts to shock for a heartbeat before she begins to laugh. She says something to the man in a language Echo doesn’t understand, and with a grumble, he complies. 

The weight shifts from Echo’s back, and they are hauled to their feet—hands still gripped behind their back, but at least they are upright and able take stock of the situation. 

“Pitch! You weren’t supposed to apprehend them on your own. They were armed!” A woman sporting cat ears and a tail saunters into the alley, not looking at all like she was terribly concerned over what Pitch did on her own. 

She’s accompanied by an unassuming person with gruff, weathered features, whose hand rests easily on the hilt of a gun. Their posture doesn’t quite relax when they take in the scene in the alley. “Nice attempt at scolding her, Steady.” 

Steady tosses her hair over one shoulder and an ear twitches. “I promised Chrysalis I would.” 

“It would have been more effective if you reached her before me. Cuffs?” 

Echo isn’t too sure what they had expected, but as soon as the handcuffs are pulled out of a pouch and tossed to man holding them, they start to panic. “Let me go—” 

“Echo Reverie,” Chrysalis says, and they recoil at the sound of their name. These people knew who they were from the beginning. If they know that, then, what else do they know? “You are under arrest—” 

“Let me go!” They start to struggle again, despite knowing how ineffective it will be. “I didn’t do anything—” 

“Lying,” the fourth figure says, hand still on their gun. 

Echo glares at them, and kicks against the ground, trying to find purchase. “Nothing that you can prove!” 

Chrysalis doesn’t even strain as he fixes the handcuffs in place, just too tight around Echo’s wrists. “For breaking and entering, and stealing classified information.” 

They continue to struggle, pulling harder at the grip on their arms. Protests fall from their mouth in an incoherent stream. Their feet scramble against asphalt as they try to resist, and for one painful second, they think they might have wrenched their arm from its socket as Chrysalis tugs them back upright. 

Pitch watches in silence, crystal blue gaze focused on them with open curiosity and interest.

Steady falls into step on Echo’s other side, and her touch is gentle against their elbow. "Come quietly, and we don't have to make this an issue," she says, and though her smile is polite, Echo can feel the threat behind her words. 

Chrysalis does very little to make them feel at ease. 

Echo tests the bonds on their wrists, struggles against the rising panic, and turns back to the woman named Pitch. 

She hasn't moved, and continues to stare at them. Curious, but not alarmed. 

Their gaze meets as Chrysalis' hand tightens on their elbow and Echo is propelled out of the alley. 

For a moment, they go along with it. They let themself be led away, until there is a fraction of a tilt in Pitch's head and something on her face flickers—as if disappointed. 

Echo moves, then. 

They don't throw themself into one or the other. Instead, they go limp and let the grips on their elbows keep them upright. 

"Hey—" Chrysalis starts, and as he moves to try and righten Echo, they lean back into Steady. Her grip falters, and her hand moves to the small of their back to keep them from tumbling over. 

They can't get caught here. 

It can't end here in an alley. 

Echo places their feet on Chrysalis' chest, and with a kick, flips back over Steady's hand until they are behind her. 

"Stop!" a woman shouts, they're not too sure which one, but they're not about to actually obey.

They manage to get four steps away, hands held defensively in front of them, when a shot rings out in the alley.

Everything goes still. 

No one moves as the report of the gun echoes off the metal walls—bouncing wildly from side to side in time with their frantic pulse. 

Slowly, by degrees, Echo turns to look back at Pitch and the unassuming figure that had arrived with Steady. 

The person holds a gun, and they stare down the sight at Echo. They don't need to say anything, not when Pitch's gaze says bounds from just over their shoulder. 

And, subtly, barely perceptible, she nods. _Well done_ , the gesture says. 

A wall of force slams into Echo, and they are sent reeling across the ground as Chrysalis barrels into them. He applies the full heft of his weight, pinning them on their side. 

It's the first chance they've had to really get a look at him and when they do, they let out a shout in surprise. 

True to his name, the man looks to be some sort of half-bug hybrid. His jaw works over something that might be a smirk before he reaches out and hits Echo on the side of the head. 

They slip into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Echo ignores the muted conversation from the two in the hallway. It's not that Echo believes either of them will spill some state secrets, or that they'll give away anything worth taking back.

It's not that Echo thinks they'll even get out of here—wherever _here_ is.

Calling it a cell is a bit of a disservice, and they'll give their captors that much. There is a fairly comfortable cot that they are free to move and adjust at their whims. There is a small table with space for writing equipment, but no parchment or pen. The door is solid, save for the grille set into it to allow someone to talk through.

The woman with cat ears and her partner have been outside ever since Echo woke up. They had been able to hear voices, muted in conversation.

They don't say anything that isn't already known.

Echo isn't too sure how long they've been awake. Their head doesn't hurt, which is a surprise—after Chrysalis hit them, they were quite certain there would be a lump the size of the man's fist. Instead, when they had tentatively reached a hand to explore the spot, they found it unharmed, and a lingering softness there, like the memory of a lover's touch.

They keep the tips of their fingers hovering over their hair line until the sensation fades.

Not long after that, Steady's face appears in the window on the door, ears perked curiously at whatever sort of sight they make. "Oh, you're awake!"

"Am I prisoner?"

"I'm pretty sure I remember Even saying you were being arrested," she says, and her grin is clever, sharp.

They don't bother questioning the name. "So I'm going to live out my life in this comfy dorm room?"

A second voice, softer, speaks up from out of sight. The gunslinger. "At least until the Excerpt decides what's to be done with you."

This gets Echo to sit up, tension racing through their limbs. "The Excerpt?"

No point in asking which one.

"She was in town," Steady says after a pause, and Echo can hear the gunslinger snort. "Did you not see Thyrsus when you decided to rob the Archival Hall?"

They had not, but the job had been very specific about what they had gone in knowing. No one would see them come in, no one was supposed to see them leave.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"I'm pretty sure you already know it."

"Knowing it from a report and knowing it from your mouth are two different things."

"I'm not here to be friends with you."

The gunslinger snorts again, and Steady makes something that might very well be an offended noise.

Echo presses their advantage. "How _did_ you know my name?" They wait a beat, then, sarcasm heavy in their tone, ask, "Or are we doing the whole ‘I'm the one asking questions around here’ routine?"

This time, Steady laughs in delight, as if this is a game to her, then says something to the gunslinger in a language they don't recognize.

The gunslinger responds in kind, and then Steady's face disappears from the grille. The weathered features of the gunslinger take her place. "You've been arrested before," they say, a statement of fact. Echo doesn't argue. "You were caught on a camera on the way in. Facial recognition."

Echo considers this information, weighing and dismissing various responses. Even if they hadn't been tackled in an alley by a large bug man, if word got back that they had been caught on a camera, then all of this would have been for nothing. A wasted endeavor.

Ballad will be disappointed in them.

"That was careless of me," Echo says, carefully.

"A bit, yeah. Who sent you in here?"

Echo manages a laugh, though it sounds fake even to their ears. "You think I would just tell you?"

"Not really," the gunslinger says, studying Echo's face. "I wanted to see how your allegiances fell."

"I don't think I have any at this point."

The gunslinger tilts their head to the side, but doesn't relent on the scrutiny. "Do you honestly think that?"

"Yeah," Echo says, and their shoulders slump with the realization. "Yeah, I'm on my own."

The gunslinger takes a step back and looks at Steady. "They're telling the truth, at least."

"Even's not going to be happy..."

"He's never happy."

Echo clears their throat. "My sentencing is going to be overseen by the Excerpt herself?"

Steady's face reappears, crammed in next to the gunslingers in the tiny window. "She'll be there, but technically you're going to be processed by her Captain."

They put it together in bits and pieces. "Chrysalis. The big bug man. What did you call him? Even?"

"Captain Gardner to you."

Echo's lips purse, but they don't frown. "You're giving me a lot of information..."

Again, Tender's sharp grin. "You're not going to be taking it anywhere."

"I could be transmitting it back."

"You're not." The gunslinger continues to speak in surety, as if they already know the truth and is just waiting for the others to catch up.

"If you saw my record, you'd know I'm from the Tides, right?" They try to project more confidence into their tone than they feel.

"Don't try to lie through rephrasing. It's not going to work." The gunslinger's ghost grey eyes bore into Echo. "You said it yourself: You have no allegiances. Even if we didn't know from your record that you were not a part of the Tides' Current, you're very clearly bluffing. No one who has a secure escape route, or other external resources, resorts to games of 'I could be'."

Their words sting, and Echo recoils from the door.

There's a huff of breath from the gunslinger, and they shake their head. "We're not going to mistreat you, if that's what you're afraid of."

"This isn't some kind of convoluted interrogation tactic, is it?"

"Oh, interrogation through kindness, now there's an idea," Steady teases. "No, don't worry. We thought we'd ask you nicely, but there isn't going to be anyone worse after we leave."

Echo takes this in, weighs it, then dismisses it. "I'm not going to tell you anything."

"That's fair. And that's your prerogative," she says. "It wouldn't lessen your sentence any. It might just make it easier to prevent such things from happening in the future."

"What, people stealing from the Archival Hall?"

"No, people being tricked into stealing information from somewhere that they had no hope of escaping." The gunslinger levels them with that stare again, the one that could probably see through brick walls if they wanted to. "You’ve been left here to rot after you got whatever group it is you’re working for what they needed."

"No—" Echo tries, and something catches in their throat that might have been a laugh of disbelief. "No, I wasn't good enough, and so I was caught."

There's a beat, and Echo waits for them to say something. Waits for either of them to agree, _oh, yes, that must have been it, you are at fault_. Echo could deal with that.

They didn't like the idea of being abandoned, but a voice in the back of their head echoes with the gunslinger's words. _They left you they left you he left you._

Steady's ears droop, and her next words are oddly soft. "Captain Gardner will be along shortly. If you have any sort of defense, or anything you decide you want to tell, he will hear you out." She looks like she wants to say something else, but in the end, she closes her mouth and turns on her heel.

The gunslinger gives Echo one last look before following after.

Echo shuffles back to the bed and drops down onto it with a huff of breath. Ballad wouldn't have let them go into this if he didn't think they could handle it. He wouldn't have let his own sibling become a disposable asset.

But the more they consider that, the more they begin to doubt.

Resignation settles into the pit of their stomach, and they double over to rest their head in their hands.

* * *

Echo has to practically jog to keep pace with Captain Gardner. It's as if he completely forgot he was escorting a prisoner—one with a much shorter stride.

Gardner leads them through the halls of the building, though perhaps 'halls' and 'building' aren't exactly the best terms to describe it. The ceiling overhead must be made out of glass, and the full weight of the midday sun spills into the open courtyard. Trellises and climbing vines form the idea of walls, and Echo is surprised to hear birdsong right alongside chattering voices.

No one seems to pay either of them any mind as they make their way down the central walkway. No one gawks or whispers behind hands.The atmosphere is comforting, soothing. It reminds them of the sensation against their temple when they woke up a few hours ago.

It's oddly relieving, Echo thinks. Their nerves calm as they look around in wonder, and for just a moment, they forget that they're supposed to be heading to their trial.

"Where are we?" they finally ask. They do a half-spin as they walk, and lose even more ground against Gardner. "This place is massive."

"It's a city," he says. "Of course it's massive."

"This isn't the same city you found me in." Big Garage is hacked together metal and concrete, looking like several people decided to mash their idea of a city together. If it’s the Excerpt’s city, then it must be Thyrsus.

Gardner doesn't say anything.

Echo tries again. "So. Chrysalis—is that because of the whole... bug thing?" They make a gesture to their face, though honestly it is much more than that. He has wings folded up against his back that look more skeletal than bug-like, and his hair reminds Echo of some of the vines that grow on the walls. "I take it Steady isn't the cat girl's name, huh?"

Gardner continues his stony silence. He only breaks his stride long enough to open the door on the back wall, and the two of them are let through with no trouble from the guards posted on either side. Gardner takes a corner so quickly that Echo trips over their own feet to catch up.

"You know, the other two were a lot more talkative," Echo grumbles.

"Then you should have asked them more questions."

They step into an antechamber with a low stone ceiling, a strange shift compared to the openness of the rest of the city. A pale blue carpet guides them in a straight line from one door to the next.

Tiny statues line the walls, each ensconced in their own little shelf. Echo takes a closer look as they pass, and beneath it is a tiny plaque reading 'Potency'. The next over reads 'Eon'.

Their stomach lurches when they see the figurine labeled 'Harmony'. It's a shrine to each of the Divines. All three hundred within the Fleet.

Above the door, larger than the others, nestles Belgard. Her featureless face gazes down at those who pass beneath her.

It takes Echo a moment to realize that Gardner has stopped and is watching them after they had paused in the middle of the room. They clear their throat and saunter up next to him. "So I hear that Excerpt is like a hundred years old or something."

Gardner ignores this and instead, inexplicably, fixes the way their jacket sits on their shoulders. "I will read off your charges to the Excerpt, and then you will get a chance to to defend yourself. You are to address her as Excerpt, Lady Excerpt, or Ma'am. Is that understood?"

The nerves return in full force, and their knees go weak. "I—" They stop, swallow, and try again. "Will it make a difference?"

"What do you mean?"

"My defense. The other two said that even if I gave you information, it wouldn't reduce my sentence."

"No, it won't," Gardner says, and somehow, the honesty is reassuring. "Ready?"

"No," Echo says, and this earns them a small tick of what might be a considered a smile on Gardner's face. “Let’s get it over with.”

Gardner nods and pushes open the double doors to the Excerpt’s audience chamber.

The space immediately opens like a crystal ball. The domed ceiling arcs overhead, seemingly leaving the room open to the elements. The sun filters in from between the creeping vines that make their way upwards. A lush carpet of grass spreads across the floor, not quite growing wild but in no way completely contained. Somewhere, hidden from view, the sound of a water feature breaks the silence of the room.

A dais made of dark wood rests in the center of the room, the top of it obscured by gauzy blue chiffon cascading from small crystal globes that remain fixed in the open air. Candles flicker inside of them like tiny stars.

A gravel path leads from the doorway to the dais. Gardner steps ahead with confidence, his steps crunching loudly as he goes. The silhouetted figure on the dais shifts at his approach.

Echo takes a moment to catch their breath in wonder. Everything about this room—about this city—is so vastly different from every other place they’ve been. Even their home in Peregian, set on a backdrop of rolling green hills, can’t compare to the beauty of this place.

Frantic footsteps sound in the hallway behind them. “Wait! Hold on, wait!”

They turn to find a tall, awkwardly dressed man come jogging through the room with the Divines, not even pausing to look at them. He lugs a strange looking contraption beneath one arm, and when he straightens his posture after catching his breath, Echo notices that one of his eyes is clearly mechanical.

“I’m sorry,” Gardner starts, slowly, confused. “This is a closed proceeding.”

A smaller, wiry figure comes running after. They’re dressed in pale blue robes and sport an embroidered silver beetle on their lapel. “I’m sorry, Captain Gardner!” they say, reaching out for the other stranger’s arm. “He’s here from the States. For the documentary?”

“Gig Kephart,” he says, and extends his hand to Gardner. “You've heard of me.” Gig glances at Echo and winks conspiratorially.

The robed person smacks his hand down.

Gardner’s expression shifts to a glare. “I thought you weren’t supposed to arrive for another three days.”

“I was in Garage covering another story, so I figured, why wait!” He speaks with a heavy Gambish accent, compared to the crisp and structured sounds of everyone else’s Thyrsian accent. “Not a problem?”

The figure grasping Gig’s arm grumbles in Thyrsian under their breath—Echo is able to understand a little, about the Excerpt in mourning.

They don’t flinch, but they can’t stop the tinge of tension in their spine.

Gardner sighs and lowers his hand from his ear, where it had been pressed to block out the noise during this exchange. Listening to something, probably, like the woman from the morning before. There’s no wires or signs of communication devices. Only a silver pin, also of a beetle. “Bluberri, the Excerpt says he is fine to stay. She asks that you prepare a room for him.” Gardner frowns, then switches to Thyrsian to reply to something only he can hear.

Whatever he says makes Gig’s grin widen.

The one named Bluberri makes a disgruntled noise in the back of their throat. “Yes, Your Ladyship,” they say, bowing to the silhouetted figure. With one final glance between Gig and Echo, they step out of the audience chamber, pulling the double doors shut behind them.

“So,” Gig says, setting down his contraption and kneeling beside it. “Tell me. Catch me up. What are we doing?”

“ _You_ are going to stay right there and remain silent,” Gardner says.

“What? Why!”

“I already told you: This is a closed proceeding. You are only allowed in here by the… _grace_ of the Excerpt.” Gardner hesitates on the word, as if he wanted to say something else, but Gig doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay.” Gig stands, hefting a camera along with him. “Watching is what I do.” He pantomimes locking his mouth shut, which leaves Gardner visibly unimpressed and a renewed tension in Echo.

“You’re… going to film this?” they ask, voice cracking on the words.

“Yeah, a documentary on the Excerpt.” Gig fiddles with the controls on his camera without looking up.

Echo swallows. “I don’t want to be in it.”

His brow furrows, and he looks at Echo, then to the Excerpt. “You are here with her.”

“Yeeeessss…?”

“This is about her, and her duties as part of—”

Gardner steps in, moving himself between Echo and Gig. “Out of respect for the leader of the Free States, we allowed you to come in here to make the documentary about the Excerpt. But keep in mind this was decided before she became the last, so the terms of your contract are going to have to be on our schedule. And while it is about the Excerpt, if there is anyone else involved, you must get their permission. If they do not wish to be filmed, respect their wishes.”

Gig makes a face, as if this has never happened to him before. His lips screw into half frown, half pout. Then he releases his breath on a heavy sigh. “Okay. But I can stay?”

Gardner looks to Echo.

They hesitate, waiting for someone to say something, before they realize that they others are waiting on a response from _them_. Slowly, uncertainly, they nod.

“There you go. But if there’s a word from you before the Excerpt makes her ruling, or if that camera comes up, you are removed from the room.” Gardner waves Echo forward as Gig snaps a salute.

He leans down beside Echo as he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. “On behalf of the Lady Excerpt, I apologize. This was supposed to be a simple matter.”

“I…” Echo starts, but they swallow down the rest of the sentence before it can even form. Shove down the vulnerability where it won’t rise back up. Make it through this. “Been a bit of a rough week for you all, huh?” they challenge, and the expression on Gardner’s face hardens in response.

Good. They don’t need the pity. They’re a prisoner, regardless of how everyone tries to treat them.

The Captain straightens his posture and pulls a folded sheet of parchment free. “Lady Excerpt,” he starts. His booming voice cuts through the peaceful stillness of the room. “I am here to present the charges against Echo Reverie, who was apprehended yesterday morning in the city of Big Garage by myself and members of the Beloved.”

The silhouette sits up and leans forward, but the curtains do not let any details through. Echo studies the lines of her posture. They stand with their arms crossed over their chest, returning the sightless study of the Excerpt.

They knew what they were being asked to steal. It isn’t a surprise when Gardner reads it off. They even allow themself a small smirk of satisfaction when he admits that no one has been able to recover the smuggled drive.

The information will get to Ballad, and that’s the important thing. They can prove to him that they were dedicated to the cause. Even if no rescue attempt is made, Echo will be comforted in knowing that they didn’t fail in the mission.

Just in the escape.

Gardner turns his words to Echo next. “The authorities of Big Garage surrendered you into the Cadent’s control, by way of the Excerpt Signet. Who is it that asked you to commit this treason against the Cadent and her States?"

They cross their arms over their chest and lift an eyebrow in response. “Advent Group ordered it.”

There’s a beat, and Echo watches the tension shift across Gardner’s shoulders as he processes this information. “Do you have any words of defense for yourself?”

“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Echo says to the figure behind the curtains, and they watch her head tick to the side. “What I stole wasn’t anything important in the grand scheme of things, so I don’t know why you’re making such a big fuss about it.”

“And you don’t think Advent’s hands were the wrong ones?”

“No! I mean, they’re not the _best_ hands, sure, but what could they do with it? Schematics and logs for Gumption’s past repairs. It’s useless. The Divine is _dead_.” Their voice echoes through the chamber, and they can feel the sharpness of it press into their chest with. But they refuse to be embarrassed or cowed for their words.

Captain Gardner lets out a heavy breath through his nose. “For the duration of your sentence, you are to be enlisted into the Thyrisan guard to—”

The silhouette holds up a hand and in a clear, soft voice, she says, “Even. A word.”

He stops, voice dying in his throat. “My Lady?”

Back across the hall, where they had left him, Gig makes a sound of interest, but Gardner doesn’t reprimand him.

The Excerpt makes a gesture, and Gardner obeys the summons with a frown.

Echo stands awkwardly several steps away from the foot of the dais. Not close enough to hear the muted conversation between the two beyond the incoherent, deep rumbling from the Captain. They keep their arms crossed over their chest, and just before they start rocking on the balls of their feet in a display of boredom, Gardner emerges from behind the gauzy curtains.

He sports a disgruntled expression, and continues to shoot furtive glances in the direction of the Excerpt as he stands at the top of the wooden platform to deliver her ruling. “Echo Reverie.”

There’s a commanding tone in his voice that makes them immediately drop their arms to their side and pull themself up a little straighter. The nerves they thought they had fought off are close on their heels, now that there is an unknown variable.

Whatever the Excerpt said to Captain Gardner is obviously not something he approves of or expected. And Echo has absolutely no idea what it could be.

There’s very little chatter about this Excerpt, to the point where not even Ballad could predict her movements when sending out the recruits for their missions.

_She’s been playing it safer and closer to her chest as the other Excerpts die. Sticking to her city and delegating rule to others. She’s old, and age makes her cautious, but it’s also probably making her paranoid._

“You have a choice,” Gardner says, and Echo shakes their head.

“I’m sorry, I _what_?”

This seems to be the same thought process that Gardner has because his frown only deepens. “Her Ladyship has given you a choice for the duration of your sentence: You can be enlisted in the guard and serve under my command, or she has offered you the opportunity to serve as her personal bodyguard.”

Echo stares in stunned silence, jaw slowly slipping open. “I think I heard you wrong.”

“Unfortunately, you didn’t.” He lifts a hand and rubs the bridge of his nose. “She… well, I’ll let the Excerpt explain herself should you decide to take that position.” Gardner shoots a glare at the silhouetted figure, and her shoulders shake in silent laughter.

“You’re giving me the choice?”

“ _That’s_ what’s surprising to you?”

Behind them, Gig laughs, and not even Gardner’s glare is able to stifle it.

Echo shakes their head, still trying to line up their thoughts. “No, it’s not—I mean, that’s part of it, I guess.” They hesitate, watching the silhouetted figure watch them in return. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her. Is that your choice?”

They consider this. It isn’t much of a choice, in all honesty. They don’t know what being in the guard entails, but violence has never been their preference. This Excerpt has been out of the news for as long as they’ve been alive, keeping a very low profile as Thyrsus continues to wander across Quire.

After the events that led them to this point, a bit of an easy job would be preferable.

“Yeah, I’ll be the Excerpt’s bodyguard,” they finally say, and a little of the tension eases from their posture.

Captain Gardner makes a face, though Echo can’t quite figure out the reasoning behind it. “Alright.” He holds out a hand to the woman behind the curtain and she takes it with delicate ease. “Presenting They Marked Scars in Light and Pitch; Born in Fiercest Purpose and Beheld as the Signet Sealed Upon Our Pact, Excerpt of Belgard.”

In two steps, she’s out from behind the curtain, and Echo’s stomach does a fantastically confused flop when their eyes meet.

She stands tall, rivaling Gardner in height—straight backed and long limbed. Her pale blue robes are trimmed in pearls and gold, and iridescent gossamer flutters down from her shoulders like wings. Her golden hair is still in the same sort of haphazard pile atop her head like it was the day before, but this time, a simple tiara reflects the sunlight in a cascade of rainbows.

“Hello, Echo,” Pitch says, a simple smile on her face as she moves to the edge of the dais to greet them. “It’s nice to meet you properly.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So…” Echo says as they walk half a step behind Pitch.

“So,” she repeats, hands clasped casually before her. She does a far better job of matching her pace to Echo’s than Even did.

“ _You’re_ the Excerpt.”

“I am.”

“Then the Beloved? Those nicknames? I get it now that Pitch comes from your full name but—”

She laughs, though it doesn’t seem to be directed at them. “It’s a bit of a story. I will tell you over dinner.”

Echo makes a sound in the back of their throat. “Dinner?”

“Of course. You’ll be dining with me.” She arches an eyebrow at them from over her shoulder. “Or did you think I didn’t eat?”

“No, it’s not… That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

They’re not too sure they can pinpoint one specific thing, so instead, they say the first thing that comes to their mouth. “You look a lot younger than I expected.”

This gets her to pull up short, and she stares at them in open surprise. But before Echo can figure out if they need to apologize, she bursts into delighted laughter.

“Thank you,” she finally manages through her giggles. She presses a hand to her heart and inclines her head. “You flatter me.”

“I mean—” They find themself suddenly flustered at her response. “Why did you ask me to be your bodyguard? What am I expected to do? Is there a training manual or something?”

She hums, the sound light and musical with her amusement. “Well, first off, I would like for you to guard me, should anything happen.”

“Do you anticipate anything happening?”

For the briefest moment, hesitation flickers behind her clear blue gaze, and Echo knows that they misspoke. Of _course_ there is something.

She is the last Excerpt. She must expect any number of things.

But the moment passes, and the passive, even smile return to her features. “It always pays to be prepared in my position.” She turns on her heel and resumes her walk down the hall.

Echo hurries to catch up with her. “Lady Excerpt, I apologize—”

“Signet.”

“What?”

“Call me Signet.”

They make a strangled sound in the back of their throat which turns into a sort of confused shrug when she glances at them. “Captain Gardner told me to address you properly.”

She snorts and mutters something under her breath. “Even says a lot of things that you don’t have to pay attention to.”

Somehow, they doubted that—especially given the ease that the big bug man took them down with. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m going to keep calling you Lady Excerpt, if you don’t mind.”

“I do, but I suppose I’ll get used to it.” Signet waves a hand airily to dismiss it. “It has been awhile since I’ve had a bodyguard. It will be a learning curve for both of us.”

They slip into silence as they trail after her. They can’t help but feel like they’ve insulted her, and spend the time trying to figure out if they should care or not, given the circumstances.

Signet leads them on a looping, circular route around Thyrsus, pointing out locations and useful information for them as she goes. It is all rather curt and professional, which they suppose they should be thankful for, but it feels like such a stark contrast to the smile she had worn so easily.

Eventually, they leave behind the large open spaces of the city proper, moving to enclosed halls. It takes a moment before Echo realizes they’re heading back in the direction of the cell they had been in that morning.

Their mind whirls—she couldn’t be throwing them back in jail already, could she? Getting them to agree to be her bodyguard as proof of some unknown accusation, that they proved her fears by accepting the role.

She pauses before one of the heavy doors, her hand landing softly on the wood. “Were you a soldier where you came from, Echo?”

This catches them off-guard, and they debate the best possible answer. “Not… really?”

“What really, then?”

“My… My family runs a fighting school? I guess? I mean, we train in a lot of different styles of fighting.” They make a vague sort of gesture, not really knowing what to do with their hands. “So I can fight, if that’s what you were wondering.”

She makes a sound in understanding, but it’s not the same lyrical one as before. “I was just pondering your dedication.”

Echo stares at her in opened-mouth surprise before some of the lingering frustration boils up inside their chest. “I’m sorry, my _what_?”

“I apologize,” Signet says immediately, but it does little to make them feel at ease. “I phrased that poorly.”

“Then if it please you, Lady Excerpt,” they return, adding as much sarcasm as they can muster. “Phrase it less poorly.”

To her credit, she is visibly guilty in response to her words. “What did that job offer you that you would risk so much? That you would give up so much?”

Echo clenches their jaw and refuses to return her gaze. “I don’t owe you an answer to either of those questions.”

“No,” she agrees, “you don’t.” There’s a beat, and they don’t have to look to know that she’s weighing her options.

Right when they think that she’s not going to respond, she lets out a huff of breath and pulls back her shoulders—standing ever so taller. “You are welcome to remain as my bodyguard as long as you have loyalty to offer. I do not want you to think that you are being forced to stay here. I know that Even said it was a ‘sentence’, but I prefer to think of it as rehabilitation. Of a sorts. You were in some sort of situation that pushed you towards taking a high-risk opportunity.”

It was a situation that gave them chance to reunite with their brother. To prove to him that they weren’t just a small-time criminal back on the Tides.

And where did that land them? Caught somewhere between blaming themself for their own shortcomings, and blaming Ballad for not coming to save them yet.

“My aim is to help you find a place that you want to be,” Signet continues. “You will be given your own quarters, and meals will be provided with the rest of the Thyrsian guard. Additionally, you will receive wages while employed, and if at any point you wish to terminate this arrangement, then Bluberri and I will assist you on your next steps.”

Echo rubs a hand over their mouth, contemplating the best response. It is a more solid offer than what Ballad had been able to present. Her consideration for their position—and, possibly, even for those of the rest of the Thyrsian guard—speaks bounds.

But it doesn’t change the past, and that is where a lot of their doubt lies.

Eventually, slowly, they say, “You mention loyalty, but… I don’t know what I can offer. I’m sure you can understand my position: I’m from a city that lost its Divine _years ago_ , back before even my parents were born. And the States never gave us a hand. You’re a symbol of that power that I grew up not trusting.”

She makes a face that they can’t read, a dangerous mix of regret and anger, directed somewhere they can’t follow. Signet’s hand slips from the door, and she turns completely to face them. “I understand. I do not blame you.”

“Will you accept curiosity?”

This gets her to look at them, and Echo has to force themself to hold her gaze. “For what?”

“I can’t be loyal. Not yet at least. I’m sure you have your reasons for your inaction, but all I’ve seen are the consequences. It’s going to take a lot to repair that.” They clench their hands into fists at their sides, then shake them loose. “But… I want to know, and I want to learn. Like you said, I was in a tight spot, so I made specific calls. You must have done the same.”

A hint of the smile returns to her face, but she keeps her expression under control. “And you think that you are curious enough to overcome your doubts about me?”

They nod slowly, the motion eventually picking up momentum until there is confidence behind it. “Yeah. I think so. Everything here is so different and…”

“Weird?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“It’s fine. It’s true.” This time, the smile remains, and she inclines her head and bends a little at the knees in a sort of curtsey. “Thank you for your honesty.”

Signet pushes open the door and reveals what appears to be a training room. There’s the same stone that built the cell block they had been held in, but the center of the main room has a large circular pit with a dirt floor, and rows of weapons against the walls.

Steady and her companion are already in the room, and her tail flicks excitedly from side to side as she spots Echo. “Oh! We were expecting Even to be bringing them here.”

“Small change in plans,” Signet says. “Echo will be serving as my bodyguard for the foreseeable future.”

Eyes going wide, Steady exchange a look with her companion.

“Signet,” the gunslinger says, voice soft and unassuming—a strange contrast to their gruff appearance. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Even though Echo is wondering the same thing, the question still stings. They remain right behind Signet, keeping their expression as schooled as they can manage.

“Of course,” she replies airily, without a shred of concern.

Despite the fact that they told her that they couldn’t offer her loyalty, that she knows full well that there is little to no reason to trust them.

The two exchange another look, but don’t press the topic.

This seems to appease the Excerpt, and she continues her path across the room to join them. “Echo, meet Tender Sky and Fourteen Fifteen.”

Tender immediately holds out her hand. “I’m excited to get to work with you.”

“Okay, I have _got_ to know,” Echo says as they return the gesture. “What is up with those nicknames? Are they like… a thing for the Beloved? Also, why are you, the Excerpt, a member of the Beloved?”

Signet’s mouth ticks into a smile. “I told you I would explain over dinner. Come, this way.” She starts to lead the way down one of the halls.

They let out a sigh, striving not to roll their eyes, and follow after. “Alright. Fine.”

“Being a member of the Beloved is sort of secondary,” Tender explains as she and Fourteen fall into step alongside them. “We all have our own jobs separate from that.”

“So you’re in the Beloved also? Both of you?” They glance at Fourteen as well, who inclines their head, but still doesn’t speak.

Tender beams. “The three of us are a unit called the Beloved Dust.” She laughs as Echo wrinkles their nose at the name. “Yeah, I don’t really get it either.”

“Then what else do you do?”

“I run a bar. Well, I used to be a priestess. Well, there was… a lot of stuff going on.” Tender’s ears twitch, but she keeps the easy smile in place. “But right now, I run _The Steady_ , and you should totally visit. If Signet ever gives you the time off.”

The Excerpt smiles as she stops in front of a door, laying her hand on the wood. “Don’t make me sound like such a demanding woman.” She pushes open the door, and behind her, Tender gives Echo a wink that they’re not too sure how to interpret.

Echo glances at Fourteen as Tender steps into the room behind Signet. “What’s your other job, then?”

They level Echo with a flat, unassuming stare. And with the voice that doesn’t fit their body, they say, “I kill people.” Fourteen steps past Echo into the room, leaving them floundering in the hallway.

Echo tracks after the trio with their eyes, frozen in place, unable to follow after. They are all very strong and powerful people—and not just politically, between an Excerpt and being members of the Beloved.

Signet had been able to take then down easily with her sash thing, and she commands attention with every movement. Fourteen fired with exact efficiency, the shot a warning as much as it was a promise that they missed on purpose. And while they haven’t seen Tender in action yet, she moves with a confidence and surety that Echo recognizes from the way that Ballad would move during training.

That isn’t even taking Captain Gardner into the equation.

The question that bounces around in their brain as they finally step into the room is _what am I even doing here?_

Proving themself? To whom, Excerpt Signet? To Captain Gardner, or even to Ballad?

She certainly didn’t need someone like them as a bodyguard. So what sort of game is she playing? Or, possibly, after all this time, she’s bored with the mundanity of the way things have been going?

Echo shakes their head to clear their thoughts as they move into place at Signet’s side. She seems to expect them there.

Signet finishes up her conversation with with a slight man as Echo approaches, then turns to address them. “You need to be fitted for your uniform. Will you be alright on your own?”

“As long as you don’t think sewing needles are a threat, yeah I should be fine.”

She chuckles at that, and Echo marvels at how easily they’re able to make her laugh. “I will be getting debriefed by Tender and Fourteen for the conclusion of yesterday’s mission, as I could not attend that official meeting. Captain Gardner will be along shortly to collect you and show you to your quarters, then we will have dinner and I will answer any questions you have.”

They hesitate, then nod. “Understood, Lady Excerpt.”

A polite but warm smile settles on her face, and she turns to her companions. “After the two of you,” she says, and gestures them forward.

Fourteen leads them towards a door on the opposite wall, opens it to reveal what looks to be a main thoroughfare, and Echo wonders what sort of wandering back-path they had been taking. A hum of chatter filters into the room, and the sun filtering in from the glass ceilings is a rich, golden amber of the late afternoon.

And then it swings shut behind Signet, and Echo is left standing with the frail looking man who studies them over the rim of his glasses.

Echo wonders if there is something they’re supposed to say as the man starts to pace around them, hand on his chin, mentally measuring them up.

“A little on the short side, aren’t you,” the man says, and Echo bristles.

“I’m the same height you are!”

He waves it off and gives an experimental tug to Echo’s hair. “Do you always keep it long?”

“Ow! No one said anything about a dress code.” They swat him away before he can make another poke. “Hair stays.”

The man makes some sort of comment under his breath in Thyrsian. Echo only picks up that he says something about hair pins. “Hair stays,” he says, in a way that isn’t quite agreeing, isn’t quite acquiescing. “Take off your jacket. Do you have anything to tie your hair up with?” He moves across the room to a what looks to be a drafting table, and begins to rifle through the paperwork and fabric scraps on it.

Echo shrugs out of their jacket and drapes it over the back a chair. Now that they have a chance to look around the room, they notice bolts of heavy, patterned fabric lining the back wall that Signet had led them through, and three dress forms sporting various stages of coats much like the ones Echo saw the people of Thyrsus wearing.

There’s more doors, either changing rooms or display rooms against either side wall, and the front only has a door leading out to the street.

“Why don’t you have that same sort of open plan as everyone else seems to?” Echo asks as they braid their hair.

“I’m not originally from Thyrsus,” the man explains, producing a pad of paper and a pen. “I’m from Seneschal, where we had boundaries like _walls_. But the Excerpt liked my designs, and offered me a place here, and I couldn’t exactly say no.”

“Couldn’t you?” Echo wonders if they could have said ‘no’, or what exactly she meant when she said they were not ‘being forced to stay here’.

“And miss an opportunity like this one? I would never dream of it.” He moves Echo’s arms out to either side and produces a measuring tape from one pocket. “The designs that Thyrsians favor may be simple in silhouette, but it is the fabric and the patterns that make them shine. And the Excerpt herself, always a keen eye for fashion.” The man works with deft efficiency as he talks, taking measurements and repositioning Echo as he pleases.

They let him, resigned to the process. “But she gave you the choice?”

He glances up at them and shrugs. “Of course. You sound surprised.”

Echo wonders if the man knows who exactly they are, beyond someone apparently personally attached to the Excerpt. So they shrug as well. “I’m new here.”

“It’s obvious.”

Before Echo has the chance to reply, the front door to the shop opens and Captain Gardner steps in—though he does have to duck and side-shimmy a little to fit. The tendrils of his hair stick close to his head, which was never a phrase Echo would have thought to use in describing someone, but it definitely looks like there is a conscious effort to keep his hair in place.

His gaze does an immediately sweep of the room before his posture relaxes. “How’s it going, Daro?”

“Barely getting started,” the man says, and Echo bites back a groan of frustration. “I will go get some things for you try on for the meantime.” He disappears into one of the side rooms, and Gardner watches the door with an amused smirk.

“I didn’t know I was going to have to play dressup,” Echo grumbles as Gardner steps further into the main room.

He offers an unhelpful hum, and Echo wonders what sort of uniform they would have had to wear if they chose to serve under Captain Gardner instead. “Her Ladyship asked me to deliver this to you.” He shrugs a strap off his shoulder and holds out a sheathed sword.

“Elegy?!” Echo hesitates before taking a step forward to receive the offered weapon. “You’re giving it back?”

“We… understand the importance of a good weapon. And that is a good sword.”

They clutch the hilt in one hand, the scabbard in the other, remembering the familiar and comforting weight of it in their grip. “Thank you.”

Daro returns with a rack of clothes, but stops in the middle of the room as his eyes land on Elegy. “Won’t be needing that for now,” he says, and gestures vaguely in the direction of the chair where Echo left their jacket. “Now. Come along. Got a few samples. Of course, I don’t have anything already made in the fabric that the Excerpt picked out, but we will see what fits.”

Echo doesn’t bother holding back the groan this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Life as the Excerpt's bodyguard quickly becomes a series of routines.

Wake before dawn. A quick jog around the perimeter of Thyrsus. Sometimes, they are joined by Even. Often, they are alone. Shower, dress, meet the Excerpt as she takes breakfast at her desk.

The mornings she spends on paperwork. Lunch varies; it is either a meeting with a local representative, taken at her desk, or skipped altogether. In the afternoon, she goes for a walk, taking the same path Echo jogged that morning.

Then she will meet with the citizens of Thyrsus on her way back, or she will have them invited to her audience chamber as they speak their concerns or condolences or thoughts.

She takes dinner in a private dining room. She always invites Echo to sit with her.

It takes them a week, but then they do.

After dinner, Signet will ask them a question. Sometimes, it is a short, terse answer. ("Are you enjoying your time here?" "Well enough.") (There's still so much to learn.) Sometimes, they lie. ("Would you like to reach out to your family?" "They don't care where I'm at.") (Perhaps they tell the truth.)

Sometimes, it's a question they don't know how to answer. ("How are the Tides getting on without Harmony?") (She speaks as if Harmony was a friend of hers—but that couldn't be right, or else why would she ignore the Tides once Harmony was gone?)

Signet never deviates from this schedule of events. Echo chafes under the routine, but they consider the alternatives, and they stick it through.

Their uniform arrives after the first week. It is a coat made heavy fabric, but rests easy across their shoulders. As if it’s supposed to belong there. The fabric is dark, blacks and greys, accented with golden threads. 

It turns them into a second shadow at Signet’s side.

They keep their old jacket in their room, hanging from the back of their door. The embroidered eagle and tiger don’t offer peace the same way they used to, but Echo still takes comfort seeing them.

After two weeks, they have learned four important facts about Signet:

  * She is not treated as the Excerpt by her people, but as a beloved friend.
  * She loves bugs, and will always stop in their walk to point out one insect or another to Echo.
  * She is an attentive listener.
  * Her eyes are very blue.



(This last has little to do with anything except that Echo finds themself drawn in by her honest, curious gaze when they are talking.)

* * *

The only variation they get is the chance to train with other soldiers. They're a mix, not completely from Thyrsus, but all eager to serve under the Excerpt for one reason or another. Many of them are like Echo: They were given a choice to serve under her banner, in lieu of jail time, or whatever other sort of 'rehabilitation' she might have offered.

Captain Even Gardner, formerly of the Ever Forward, formerly a lot less bug like, is far more conversational than he originally let on.

He reminds Echo of Ballad, and that in itself is a bit hard to reconcile.

The other soldiers don't ask after Echo's history. They don't ask why Echo is the Excerpt's bodyguard—which is just as well, because they're not even sure why she gave them that offer. They are accepted in by the other soldiers easily and readily, and they don't feel the need to have to prove themself.

Not like with Ballad. Not like with their own brother.

It hurts, but in the sort of way that pulling off a bandage does. Quick, sharp, then nothing more than a faint reminder that it was even there.

They are beginning to like it here.


	5. Chapter 5

Five weeks pass before Echo finally learns that the world is still moving, and it's not just limited to Thyrsus' slow ambulatory over the ever distant horizon.

The city streets are quieter than usual when Echo goes on their run. They can't find Even anywhere, and the garrison is empty when they poke their head in on their way to Signet's chambers.

She meets them at the door to her office, a strangely blank look on her face as she watches them approach. "Echo. Good. Come, there is a slight change in plans."

While normally they would relish a shift in routine, unease starts to creep up their spine and across their shoulders. "Did I miss a memo? I can't find anyone."

"A memo," she repeats, softly, more to herself in curiosity. "I suppose, perhaps. But your role is my bodyguard, so it would not have been for you."

Echo frowns as they hurry to catch up with her. Elegy bounces in its scabbard against their back. "Lady Excerpt, you being cryptic is not helping with my anxiety."

She slows, but not enough that they run into her. "I apologize. I am not... used to someone asking so many questions." Her tone is light, and her smile is teasing to soften the words. "I can assure you that everyone is fine."

Signet leads them onto a side street as the sun begins to filter in through the heavy clouds overhead. It becomes immediately obvious that they are on their way to her audience chamber and the thrum of fear starts to get louder.

"I'm not being fired, am I?" Echo asks before they can stop themself.

This catches Signet off guard, and her laughter fills the air. "No, nothing like that." Finally, she pulls to a stop and turns to face them. "You're not being fired, and this isn't a review. If you are worried, I must say that I am quite satisfied with the care you have shown to your position."

Echo can't quite help the blush that warms the back of their neck as she offers them a smile. "Uh. Thanks."

"A report came in from agents in the field that there would be an attempt to rob the Archive Hall in Altar. Even has informed me that the one responsible has been apprehended." Signet holds their gaze steady as she speaks, and they wonder what sort of things they give away in that moment.

They are all the way by Altar? That’s a journey that would take _months_ from Big Garage, and they made it in just over five weeks. Thyrsus has a larger stride than Echo originally thought, and they find themself reeling as they try to picture how big this city is.

“Oh,” Echo utters, the sound leaking from their mouth. They’re suddenly acutely aware of the similarities to what happened five weeks ago at their own arrest, and they have to swallow down the lump in their throat before they can speak. “I see.” The weight of their uniform coat feels so much more noticeable now.

She doesn't reply right away, but they don't know how to judge the silence between them. "Will you be willing to help oversee the proceedings, as someone who was in a similar position? You don’t have to if you would rather not."

Echo opens their mouth, but no answer immediately spills out. They try again, but a strangled sound barely makes its way out. "I don't know."

They watch her hands fold demurely in front of her, still unable to meet her gaze. "Will you at least escort me the rest of the way? You can use that time to consider your decision."

They snap back into attention, embarrassment rising in their chest. "Of course," they say, and that answer is easy. "Yeah. I can do that."

Signet starts off again, this time at a slower pace that is easier for them to match as their mind scrambles to catch up.

“I know you said I’m not being fired, but what if you like this new person better than me?” Echo means for it to be a joke, because it’s only been five weeks, and that means very little in the grand scheme of the Excerpt’s life.

But she turns and levels with with a look of seriousness that they don’t expect. “I meant it when I said that I like having you as by bodyguard, Echo. Please do not think so little of yourself like that.” Her hand lifts, and hesitates in the space between them.

A beat passes before she lets it drop, a look of consideration on her face. But her thoughts don’t seem in anyway directed towards them as she turns away, and Echo takes a moment to pointedly decide they don’t care about the way their heartbeat picked up.

Echo follows her through the antechamber of her receiving room, and the hundreds of Divines watch the two of them pass. Echo reaches out and runs their fingers along the nameplate for Harmony, the same way they have been doing for five weeks.

It's a little bit soothing, though the comfort doesn't last that long at all. They're immediately back on edge the moment the doors are thrown open. Signet steps into the audience chamber with them close on her heels, only to find that Even is already in there with the prisoner at the foot of her dais. Tender and Fourteen stand on the other side of the path.

Gig is there, too, and he gives Echo an enthusiastic wave and thumbs up.

Echo wouldn't quite say that they're _friends_ with Gig at this point, but he's kept his word and has left them off the film reels he's shot of the Excerpt. It doesn't help that he's always hanging around Signet's offices, and Echo is always with Signet. It became a working friendship of convenience more than anything.

Already, this is different from their trial. They can't tell if this is supposed to be a show of force from the last Excerpt, or if this is how a trial would normally proceed. That theirs had been the exception to her rule.

Signet strides down the walkway with purpose in her step, and Echo doesn't allow themself the luxury of looking around at the others in the room. They can see Even snap to attention, and Tender and Fourteen pull themselves up a little straighter.

The Except takes her seat, Echo positioning themself behind her. The moment they look up, they suck in a sharp breath at pale blond head bowed in embarrassment next to Even.

Could it really be someone from so close to home all the way out here? What were the chances?

"Lady Excerpt," Even announces, turning to the dais and the woman on it. "I am here to present the charges against Lumen Lux, who was apprehended yesterday morning in the city of Altar by myself and members of the Beloved."

The figure next to him lifts their head at the sound of their name and Echo wills Lume to not look in their direction.

Even reads off the case details—that Lumen was caught as they attempted to infiltrate the Archival Hall on Altar. They never made it in the front door, much less alone obtain the information.

The script is the same, but the set-up is all different. Echo's mind reels, wondering what was special about their trial.

And when the time comes for Lumen to present their case, they finally bring their eyes to Signet. It takes only the span of a heartbeat for their gaze to flick to the figure behind her, and Echo watches as recognition dawns on their face.

"Echo?" they ask, immediately forgetting their defense. "What are you doing here?"

When Echo doesn't respond, Lumen takes a step closer—only to have Even's hand clamp down on their shoulder and hold them back in place. "Ballad never—" They cut themself off, attention jumping from Echo to Signet, then back to Echo. "You're alive, that's good."

"What," they finally say, ignoring the way that Signet's head tilts to the side but does not turn back toward them. "Did he tell everyone I died?"

Lumen struggles for an answer before heaving a shrug with only one arm, the other still weighed down by Even's hand. "He never said anything, really." They glance around at everyone, as if remembering the position they're in. "I'm confused," they finally admit.

Signet leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on the backs of her interlaced fingers. "Lumen," she says, voice soft but demanding. "Who is it that asked you to commit this treason against the Cadent and her States?"

They stutter out a few half-formed words and look to Echo for help.

Echo doesn't quite know what sort of answer they want, but they give a small, barely perceptible nod. _Go on,_ they urge.

It will become clear to them soon that they’ve been abandoned.

"It was the Advent Group, your worship," Lumen says, dropping their gaze to their feet.

Just in front of them, Signet makes a small sound in the back of her throat, but Echo isn't entirely too sure if it's from the title or the information. "And what did they ask you to steal?"

"Blueprints and possible coordinates for a Divine."

She goes still.

Across the way, Tender and Fourteen exchange glances with one another.

"Which Divine?" Signet asks slowly.

Again, Lumen glances to Echo before answering, but they don't even know what sort of assistance to lend here. "Privign, your worship."

Signet is on her feet in an instant, so fast that Echo stumbles back a step. "Captain Gardner, if you would please escort Lumen back to their room, then meet me in my office. Tender, Fourteen, a word." She steps down and back onto the path as the scattered sounds of agreement cascade after her.

Echo is left standing awkwardly on the dais, uncertain of which way they're supposed to go.

Lumen makes a sound, struggling uselessly against Even's grip. "Wait—Echo, what's going on?"

"I don't—" they start, uncertain, frozen, and watch as the others peel out of the audience chamber to do as Signet instructed.

No one stops to tell them to follow, so they don't. Not immediately.

Gig lowers his camera, rubbing the back of his head and muttering something in Gambish before glancing up at Echo on the dais. "So, you know them?"

"I... I grew up with them at the house a lot," Echo admits, the words to describe their past weird and fuzzy in their mouth. "But they were always closer to..."

Ballad's name catches on the that weird fuzzy feeling and refuses to be spoken. That's fine. They don't want to have to explain the whole thing to Gig. Not when they're going to have to explain it again to Signet.

Echo shakes their head and finally rounds the divan that Signet perches on. "Don't you have filming to do?"

He shrugs, waiting until Echo joins him on the path. "Reaction like that, I'll be safer coming in with you. She'll be less likely to kick me out." Gig winks his real eye, which leaves an uncomfortably long moment where the fake eye stares out and just past Echo's ear (which they're pretty certain he does on purpose). "After you?"

They click their tongue disapprovingly but lead on all the same.

They will have to take a moment to talk to Lumen after this is all done. Figure out what exactly Ballad was doing in the time since they were arrested.

Or is it even worth knowing?

Ballad clearly didn't care, which stung. A lot.

Did they have an obligation to Advent, after all this time? They tried to join to impress their older brother, and this is where it landed them.

Echo's hands clench into fists at their sides as they walk, only half paying attention to Gig's idle chatter as they go.

They reach Signet's office door at the same time as Even.

Captain Gardner hesitates, looking like he wants to say something—to Echo or to Gig is unclear. But in the end, he shakes his head and holds open the door for the two of them to enter.

"—They really weren't all that equipped for the task," Tender is saying as they enter. Her ears are flat against her head, and her tail twitches.

Signet paces in a tight line behind her desk, causing her shadow to fidget nervously across the wood. "And yet they got as far as they did."

Tender makes a face. "I don't think that has as much to do with anything more than luck."

Fourteen snorts, but doesn't say anything.

Signet stops and swivels, gaze immediately going to Echo. "Oh, good, there you are," she says, as if oblivious to the fact that she had left them behind. "Who is 'Ballad'?"

Their stomach lurches at the question, and it's all that they can do to keep any reaction from their expression. "He's... a high ranking official in the Advent hierarchy. He plans and leads a lot of the strike teams."

They don't say that he was the one in charge of the Empyrean attack. It's not that it goes unspoken, it's only that it's not what is important right now.

From the corner of their eye, they watch as Fourteen shifts their weight from one foot to the other. The gunslinger looks like they want to say something, but they keep the thought to themself.

If Signet notices this, she doesn't say. Her fingers drum out an irritated rhythm on her desk. “And he… what, assigned you these tasks?”

Ballad had been involved with Echo’s audition because, Echo figured, he wanted his younger sibling to succeed. Perhaps the same level of care extended to Lumen, but that didn’t change the fact that Echo has been a part of the Excerpt’s retinue for a little over a month and he has not reached out.

There was no operation to rescue Echo. There was no attempt at communication.

Not for the first time, Echo curses the fact that they aren’t connected to the Tide’s Current. Maybe Ballad wanted to, but didn’t have the ability to get a letter in past the Excerpt’s guard.

Or perhaps he did think the worst had happened. If word got out that Echo had been apprehended by the Beloved, then it would be fair to think that there was no way of rescuing them.

Realizing that they’re probably taking too long to answer the question, Echo attempts a shrug that they hope is casual. “Sort of? For me, at least, because I can’t speak for Lumen, it was a recruitment process. Like, literally me and the other recruits all called them ‘auditions’ to see if we would make it, and what role we would get.”

To their side, Even makes a disgruntled noise. Echo sends a silent apology his way, because they have come to enjoy training alongside him and his soldiers. While they had always been on the outside of the Advent ranks, their position as Ballad’s sibling would have been enough to secure them some degree of professional distance.

All of Captain Gardner’s soldiers treated them like another equal, not even bothering to shift their attitude because Echo is the Excerpt’s bodyguard.

And that sense of _belonging_ helped Echo feel settled in a way they never did while growing up.

"I see," Signet hums. "And what role did you want, Echo?"

They tilt their head to the side, considering her question. "Nothing in particular, really. It was just... It was somewhere to be. It was something to do." A huff of laughter escapes them and they lift a hand to run back through their hair. "It might surprise you, but I was a bit of a troublesome kid on the Tides. I heard something about seeing my record when I was caught on the Archival Hall tapes, right?"

The hint of a smile on Signet's face let's them know it's okay to continue.

"So when Advent was looking for a particular skill set, I figured why not. It got me out of the Tides, and the rut I was in there." Echo casts a quick glance in Even's direction, but doesn't allow themself the chance to linger. "You asked me, Lady Excerpt, if I had loyalty to give, back when you first offered me the position of your bodyguard..." They take a breath, focusing their attention to the woman across the table from them.

Right now, it’s only her opinion that matters. She's proven that, while she takes the counsel of her friends, she still does what she wants.

So even if Captain Even Gardner, or if Tender Sky and Fourteen Fifteen of the Beloved, tries to find fault with them, so long as the Excerpt trusts them, that is all that matters.

"It took me awhile to figure out an answer to that. Because I thought I still owed an allegiance to a group that I... in all honesty didn't belong with. That saw me as another body among many." They have to push Ballad to the back of their mind, because he's the exception to that statement. "I offered you curiosity at the time, and you accepted it."

Echo takes a step closer to the desk, and the atmosphere in the room tenses as the others react to their advance.

Only Signet stands still, watching, waiting.

They sling Elegy off their back and place it on the edge of her desk. They place their hand to their heart and incline their head in her direction. "Lady Excerpt, I hope that you'll accept my loyalty now."

Their heart beats once, twice, a rapid tattoo inside their chest, before Signet returns the bow of her head. "I will, Echo. You have proven yourself faithful in the tasks set before you thus far. I do not doubt your continued dedication."

At that, the tension breaks, and Tender releases a relieved sigh.

Signet manages another faint smile and gives a small shake of her head in amusement. But the expression quickly sobers, and she lifts her gaze to her captain. "Even, has there been any news on the status of Seance?"

Even steps forward, standing side by side with Echo. "The city has settled close by where its Divine was grounded."

"And?"

"The people are mourning, but carrying on."

Signet gives a shallow nod. Shadows flicker across her throat as she gulps. "What of the Divine Empyrean?"

Even ducks his head. "Forces have confirmed that the scavengers have been chased off."

"Tender and I are getting ready to make our way over there," Fourteen announces. "We're going to help secure the perimeter for the Excerpt's arrival."

Echo's eyes go wide, and their attention swings from Signet to Fourteen. "Wait, we're heading to Seance?" They shake their head and try again. " _You're_ going to see Empyrean?"

"It is an Excerpt's duty to send off a Divine," Signet says, and there's something in her expression that lets them know that she has more to say than she's letting on.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

She closes her eyes and breathes in slowly. “It is the best course of action,” she says, as if that’s a proper answer. Signet lifts her hands and makes a dismissive gesture. “Fourteen, Tender, see to your duties as the Beloved. Captain, please arrange our course for the last known coordinates of Seance.”

Even salutes as Tender and Fourteen murmur their agreement. The three of them file out of the room and soon, only Echo is left.

Or at least, that’s what they thought.

Gig moves to take Even’s place at Echo’s side, dropping down into one of the chairs across the desk from Signet. “This will be a great scene for the documentary,” he says, eager, camera on his lap as he reaches into his pocket for the notebook he always carries.

Echo makes a small noise in the back of their throat as Signet lifts a hand to her face.

“Gig, you cannot include any of that,” she says, and he pauses mid-scribble.

He looks from the notes to his camera to Signet. “Why not?”

She frowns. “I already told you my conditions when you first arrived here.”

Gig, oddly, looks to Echo before switching to Gambish to fire off a rapid question in Signet’s direction—only a few words of which Echo is able to catch. The benefit, they’ve found, of Gambish and Thyrsian being hybrid languages is that the words they’ve adopted from Tidal are easy to pick out of the mix and give them a rough sense of the conversation.

He asks something about a contract, and shifts in terms, but the rest is likely legal jargon they don’t have enough skill to translate.

Their name, also, is easy to identify.

It only causes her frown to deepen. “I would appreciate it if you use Diasporan, and address any questions about Echo’s involvement to them directly.”

“I said I don’t want to be a part of this documentary,” Echo says immediately. “Also I think this is kind of serious stuff that shouldn’t go in.”

Gig waves a hand in a mimicry of Signet’s earlier gesture. “It’ll be some time before anyone sees this. It’ll blow over by then.”

Signet draws back, clearly startled. “It will ‘blow over’?” she repeats.

He looks from her to Echo, as if they have an explanation for her behavior. “Yeah. News is sensational. Give it a few weeks and something else will have their attention.”

The expression that flickers across Signet’s face looks vaguely like disappointment. “Gig, you’re an intelligent man. Knowing what you do now, between Echo’s and Lumen’s arrests: What do you think that Advent is planning?”

This wipes the hint of a smile completely from Gig’s face, but before he can get the chance to counter, she pushes the advantage.

“Who do you think killed Gumption?”

He snaps his mouth shut immediately, jaw working over the answer that he doesn’t have to say to hang heavy in the air between them. “I see your point,” he finally says.

“Bluberri will continue to review all footage. They have final say on what remains.”

Gig takes a breath and nods. “Understood, your ladyship.” He pushes himself to his feet and grabs his camera. There’s a moment of hesitation before he says, “Guess I’ll prep for Empyrean.” His typical smile is back in place and he gives Echo a cheery thumbs up before leaving the office.

There’s several seconds after the door clicks shut in which Echo and Signet stand awkwardly on either side of the table.

Then, with a tired sigh, Signet drops down into her chair. She indicates for Echo to do the same, and they take the one that Gig just abandoned. “I apologize,” she says, voice soft. “I have not quite been myself today.”

“What do you mean by what Advent is planning?” They’re unable to stop the question, and immediately feel foolish for having asked it.

But Signet doesn’t give them the same disappointed look she gave Gig. “You were asked to steal repair logs and schematics from Gumption, correct?”

They nod, slowly.

“Lumen admits to trying to steal blueprints for a Divine.”

“Right. They mentioned that. Privign, or something. I don’t get what makes those so dangerous.”

She considers them for a moment. “What do you know of Privign?”

Echo shrugs. “Not a lot.”

“It was one of the first Divines to die. Of natural causes, we think. But what if someone had been able to use Gumption’s abilities?”

“What about Belgard’s?”

“The question remains. I am alive to guard Belgard’s secrets, but Excerpt Covenant is no longer with us, and she cannot protect Gumption.” Signet clasps her hands together before her and looks to Echo. “So: What could Advent want with the repair capabilities of a Divine known for saving many of the Fleet, and with the location of a Divine who died of natural causes? Of any Divine, really, except that Advent has picked the corpses clean of those they could find, and even Gumption had his limits.”

Echo puts the pieces together: Gumption’s schematics—the logs of a Divine who knew what it took to keep other Divine’s alive. An untouched Divine—safe from scavengers, but lost to time. Altar, which is so far away—to get here so quickly, just in time to catch Lumen on their infiltration.

“You knew…” they start slowly, and Signet doesn’t look away. “This whole time, you knew about the coordinated strike on Empyrean and Big Garage. And you chose me. Little, insignificant _me_.”

A darkness flicks over her expression, but it’s quickly schooled. It doesn’t hide the tension in the backs of her hands, however, the strain as she keeps them clasped on the table before her. “I had to make a _choice_ , and I chose the bigger picture. We did not know the details of the Empyrean attack. I thought I had more time to figure out a plan, but—” Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she looks surprised, as if she never expected to be betrayed by her emotions like this. “The simple answer is I didn’t. And I didn’t stop you in time. I failed twice, and that is the choice that I made. That is the knowledge I have to live with.”

Signet pushes herself to her feet and for an instant, Echo feels the world tilt around her, bending to her presence as she towers over her desk. The sun spills in behind her, and their breath catches when all they can think is _divine_.

Then she closes her eyes, and the illusion passes, and for a moment, she looks so fragile.

And then that is gone, too, and they are left staring up at a woman who tries to keep her expression as still as ice.

“Echo Reverie,” she says, and they find themself sitting straighter at the tone of her voice. “Will you still follow me, knowing now why we go against Advent?”

“Without hesitation, Lady Excerpt,” they return, breathless. The surety of their decision does little to calm their nerves at the idea, but this will also give them the chance to confront Ballad on more stable terms.

Signet rounds her desk to stand before them, their knees nearly touching. She lifts a hand to touch the tips of her fingers against their jaw, and turns their face up towards her.

They hold their breath as she studies their expression.

And then she leans over and presses her lips to their forehead, and the simple gesture pulls the tension from their limbs.

Echo closes their eyes, feeling the knot in their gut unspooling, their hands relaxing in their lap.

She pulls back, and offers a simple, honest smile as they return her gaze. “You are very brave, Little Flame,” she tells them, and something in their chest lurches at the nickname.

Signet steps away, moving back around to her desk and looking for all the world like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. “You’re free to take the rest of the day off. Go see Lumen. I think they will appreciate a friendly face.”

They resist the urge to rub the spot on their forehead, instead rubbing their chest like they have heartburn. It’s an easier feeling to focus on and pick apart, the way their pulse stutters awkwardly in their ribs and that the back of their neck feels too warm. “What is going to happen to them?”

“Most likely choice is they will agree to serve under Captain Gardner among the Thyrsian guard.” She sorts through some of the papers on her desk, not paying them much attention. “They do have the option to leave, of course, but I have a feeling they are about as likely to take it as you are.” At this, she glances up from beneath her lashes and flashes a teasing smile. “Now go on, I have boring Excerpt things to attend to.”

Echo rises to their feet and tugs Elegy off the edge of her desk. “Thank you, Lady Excerpt.”

She pauses, lifting her head to look at them with an edge of confusion to her expression before it smooths over. “Of course.”

They sling the sword back over their shoulder as they leave her office.

Once out of sight, letting the door click shut behind them, they lift their hand to touch their forehead.

It feels cool, soft, and a half-formed memory tickles at the back of their mind.

But they ignore it and make their way down to the cells.


	6. Chapter 6

Even is waiting at the main door to the cells. He holds a sheaf of paperwork under one arm, and his expression makes him look like a very intimidating bug clerk. "I hear that you've accepted the Excerpt's proposal."

Echo can still feel her kiss on their forehead, and they lift a hand unconsciously to touch the spot.

Even's gaze tracks the motion, so Echo quickly turns it into a brush of their hand back through their hair instead. "I thought I was already working for her Ladyship, or was I an intern until now?"

He huffs out a breath that is not quite a laugh and reaches into his pocket. "She asked me to arrange this for you if you accepted. Excerpt Signet seemed convinced that you would and I am glad that you did not let her down." Even pulls out a small box and tosses it to Echo.

They catch it with ease, which only causes Even to smirk. Curious, they pop it open and glance down at the small silver pin in the shape of a flame nestled inside.

"Strictly speaking, Excerpt Signet, Tender, and Fourteen obtained their pins as members of the Beloved. When I came to work with her, she had one commissioned for me." Even uses one of the tendrils of his hair to point at the box in Echo's hand. "She requested one be made for you the day you agreed to be her bodyguard, but I warned her against handing it over so easily."

They marvel at the small pin inside, plucking it free of the stuffing and holding it up to the light. "I don't understand..."

"Yes you do. The nicknames we all have? Those are from Excerpt Signet. She has..." Even struggles for a moment, trying to find a way to put something into words. "She has this special connection with the Mirage lines that cross Quire. So she's tied a little bit of the Mirage to each of our pins, and can use the to contact us."

"And they're triggered by the nicknames...?" they ask, thinking of the way something in their chest shifted when she called them 'Little Flame'.

"She never explained the specifics to me—said I _wouldn't understand the ways of the Excerpts_ or some bullshit answer like that." He snorts, but there is a fond smile on his face as he shakes his head. "I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's like she has placed the end of a Mirage line in each of us, and plucks on them when she needs us. Or we need her."

The silver flame feels heavier in their hand for that.

"I don't... I can't access the Mirage like everyone else," they find themself saying, quietly, the words feeling like cotton shoved in their mouth. "It's... the reason I'm not on the Tides’ Current." They don't mention that the lack of the access to the Mirage—the way that everyone they knew could, that little bit of magic that runs through the blood of the people of Quire, that pulse of belonging—is the starting point in a long list of reasons for how they ended up where they are. Their hand shakes a little as they snap the box shut and hold it out to Even. "It's a very pretty gift, and I'm honored, but I don't know... if it will work."

Even considers them for a long moment, his dark eyes softening at whatever he finds. He pushes Echo's hand back to their chest. "Hold on to it, at least. Wear it if we go out in the field, because it will please the Excerpt. Besides," he adds after a beat, "you shouldn't stray too far from her side anyway. So it might not even need to come up."

Not too sure if they agree with his line of thought, Echo swallows down their objection and nods. "Yeah. Right. Who knows."

Even claps them on the shoulder, and the lingering touch makes them suddenly miss Ballad with a terrible fierceness.

This, too, they swallow down.

"I've got Lumen's paperwork to process, so you should go talk to them. I take it that's why you came down here in the first place."

"Yeah..." Echo says, then gives a small cough to clear their throat. "Yeah, I'll go do that." They slip the box into one of the inside pockets of their coat and tug the edges of it smartly back into place.

The door to the row of cells swings open on silent hinges. Echo hasn’t had much of an occasion to come back here after they accepted their position as Signet’s bodyguard, but they’ve since learned that it is a part of an inter-connected sub-level of Thyrsus. Many of the guards’ training and posting stations are scattered throughout this sub-level.

It is a quick way to get from one point to the other without causing a panic among the citizens.

Lumen is in the only occupied cell, the single closed door in the otherwise empty hallway.

Echo drags their feet as they approach, uncertain how eager they are to have this conversation. They pluck the ring of keys from a peg on the wall and use them to unlock the door. There’s no guard on duty, but in all the time that Echo has been working for Signet, Lumen is the only other prisoner beside themself who had been held and tried.

Lumen looks up at their entrance, and the worried lines at the corner of their mouth eases a degree. “So I wasn’t seeing things. It really is you.”

They move across the room without realizing what they’re doing. There’s an instant where Lumen flinches back, uncertain of what’s going to come, then Echo throws their arms around Lumen and pulls them in for a sharp hug.

A gasp wheezes out of Lumen, but they quickly return the embrace. “It’s good to know you’re okay.”

“Yeah…” Echo steps back and awkwardly fidgets with their gold-embroidered coat. “A lot has happened. And Ballad… really didn’t say anything?”

“No, he…” Lumen hesitates, and Echo studies the flickering expression. They are clearly trying to decide if they want to say something or not. “We mourned when the news came that you were caught. Those of us from the Tides in the facility. Not that we thought you were dead or anything, but we knew there wouldn’t be any to get you back.”

Echo turns their gaze to the floor, and gives a curt nod. “I understand.”

The hesitation is still there, wafting off Lumen. There’s still more they don’t know how to say.

So Echo answers the question that Lumen can’t ask. “It will be the same for you, now.”

“I figured. But I mean. Look at you. Doesn’t look so bad.” They manage a small smile and give Echo a playful knock on the shoulder. “Will I get one of those fancy coats? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so expensive in my life.”

Echo huffs a laugh and returns the gesture. “Sorry, buddy. No fancy coat for you. But Captain Gardner is a good man. Bug man? He’s cool, is what I’m trying to say.”

Lumen looks down, then out at the empty hallway. “Yeah… Advent really wasn’t for me, but…”

“You had to try.”

“I had to try.” Their face is still turned slightly away, but their eyes shift back to Echo. “I could… talk to him for you, you know?”

At first, Echo thinks they mean Even, and they’re not too certain what Lumen is offering. But then it clicks—the tension at the corners of Lumen’s eyes, the unease in their stance.

Ballad. They could reach _Ballad_ , because they’re connected to the Current.

“I—” Echo starts, but realizes immediately that they don’t have an answer.

They could let their brother know that they’re alive, that they’re okay.

But that could just as easily turn back on them. Betray Signet’s trust if it got out that Lumen was passing along these messages.

That must have already been something that had been considered. Signet and Even spoke with surety, and Lumen also seemed to accept their position among the Thyrsian guard when Echo brought it up. It’s undoubtedly known that Lumen can access the Tide’s Current when it was also known that Echo couldn’t.

“I can’t…” Echo finally manages, their voice breaking over those two simple words. “I left that behind for a reason. Advent was never going to come and rescue me, and Ballad is better off thinking that the worst had happened.”

They don’t mention that now Excerpt Signet is going to face down Advent. That Echo and Lumen are going to have to face those they once might have considered comrades.

That they are going to have to face Ballad, eventually.

Lumen only nods, accepting this answer. “I understand. Perhaps I’ll be better off not initiating contact…”

“Has... anyone tried to reach out to you?”

They hesitate, then slowly shake their head. “I’ve been gone nearly a week, from when they dropped me to now. Now I don’t know if they will.”

“Sorry,” Echo says, staring at the floor.

“Me too,” Lumen agrees, and the enormity of the situation settles in the silence around them.

* * *

The important thing, Echo realizes, is that they've almost completely managed to forget that there had been any other choice. Sparring with Tender feels natural, the speed and ease of their movements turning into a simple dance around one another.

The same goes for Fourteen, the same goes for Even.

This group that the Excerpt Signet has collected around herself moves within the space together like they were born to it.

Lumen fits in about as quickly as Echo expected them to. They're charming, eager to please, and a quick learner. They win over many of the guards in their unit, and earn a comfortable position within a week of them being on the ship.

During this time, Signet gives Echo a bit more free reign to do as they please. There is no chance during her day to be able to receive visiting dignitaries, though she still makes the effort to visit the people of Thyrsus. The ship is constantly on the go, and Captain Gardner is rarely seen as he is one of the city’s main pilots.

So Echo spends their days sparring with Tender and Fourteen, until the day that they are getting ready to leave.

"You'll be meeting us there?" Echo asks, watching as Tender and Fourteen sort through their equipment.

"Yep! Taking a pod out with some of Even's men. They _say_ that the scavengers have fucked off, but we won't know until we get there." Tender’s tail waves idly as she talks.

"If there's nothing left to take, they'll be gone," Fourteen murmurs, as if to themself. "I'm more worried for Signet..." They trail off, gaze flicking to Echo for a beat before returning to their packing.

A surge of annoyance flares to life in Echo's chest, and they try to temper it before speaking. "I hope you don't think that I will do anything."

"I don't," Fourteen defends, and Echo can't tell if they're being honest or not. They're an extremely difficult person to read at the best of times, and when they're clearly withholding information, it becomes nearly impossible. "Signet has a way about her. She _knows_ people, understands them. This lets her listen to people, and when she speaks, she knows exactly what to say." They make a vague sort of gesture, which makes Tender smile. "She is very good at knowing people."

"So? Why are you worried about her?" Echo doesn't add that they will be there to protect her. They haven't had the chance to prove themself yet, especially not in the eyes of the Beloved. Saying otherwise would make them look like a child playing at being important.

Tender gives Fourteen a look, which they pointedly ignore. So she clears her throat, arches an eyebrow even more pointedly, and Fourteen releases an exasperated sigh.

Unlike Gig, who tends to switch back to Gambish when he's saying something he doesn't want anyone else to hear, Tender and Fourteen have the remarkable ability to communicate non-verbally. Echo has seen them use it when the two would spar against one another, or when they're facing off against two other opponents.

Their moves are always completely in sync.

So Echo waits, not entirely patiently, but knowing better than to let their anxiety show.

Tender is the first to cave, and her shoulders slump, tail flicking idly from side to side. "No one knows that she will be there. The news hasn't left Thyrsus."

Echo lifts their eyebrows and glances to Fourteen, who refuses to match their gaze. "Thyrsus is huge," they say.

"Yes. But no one has disembarked—"

"I mean that _someone_ is bound to notice this huge city just fucking... _running_ across Quire, right?" Echo makes a vague gesture with their hands, then lets it form into a shrug. "Put two and two together."

Fourteen nods, once. "And that is why _we_ are going in advance. To ensure that no one does put two and two together before she can get there."

A sound leaks from their mouth, the beginning of a question, the idea of a request, but they hold it back and keep their mouth closed.

Tender seems to understand anyway, and she reaches out to rest a gentle hand on their shoulder. "You can't come along."

"I know. And it's not like you can say 'maybe next time'." This earns them a fond smile, and then Tender's expression turns a degree more cat-like and she ruffles their hair. "Hey! You're messing up my braid!"

"Keep the Except distracted, or she will drive you _crazy_ ," she warns, and slings her bag on over her shoulders.

Finally, Fourteen's expression cracks into a smile—though they try to duck their head to cover it. "She is the worst at waiting."

Echo's not too sure how much they believe this, because all they've known of Signet is her calm and level demeanor. Even after a month and a half at her side they don't know if they've ever seen her be 'impatient'. "I'll consider myself forewarned, then."

"Forewarned, forearmed." Tender winks, then makes another swipe at Echo's head.

They duck out of the way and easily side step out of her reach. Without even pausing, they place their weight onto their back foot and swivel out of the way as Fourteen's hand reaches up towards them.

"Nice try," Echo says.

Fourteen nods, a small smirk of satisfaction playing across their lips, and Tender laughs delightedly.

"We'll see you in a few weeks," Tender says, and then the two of them are gone. Out the door of their prep room in the direction of the hanger.

Echo stands in the doorway and watches them go.

They know that it's logical for the two of them to be worried about Signet's safety while she is visiting the Divine Empyrean.

But perhaps the warning to keep her distracted isn't so much to do with her impatience, than it is to do with the moments of utmost stillness that linger in her, just below the surface, when she thinks that no one is watching.

They are the bodyguard of the last surviving Excerpt. They know that it is their duty to protect her, even if that means from her own thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you think that Advent is really out to try and… regrow a Divine?” Gig asks one evening as Thyrsus makes its way down the countryside.

“I don't know what I’m supposed to tell you,” Echo answers with a sigh. “What makes you think that I have the answer to that?”

“You work with the Excerpt? You came from Advent?” He doesn’t have his camera or his notepad, but he watches Echo with rapt focus—as if trying to commit this entire conversation and any ambient detail to memory. “You got to have some sort of hunch.”

Echo doesn’t, because they’ve tried to ignore it as much as possible. They don’t want to think about what Advent is really up to.

Put them in front of the Society as an enemy, and Echo will work against them, outsmart them, out maneuver them in any way they can.

But to try and parse the way that they think? That would involve trying to get inside Ballad’s head, and the one time they tried, Echo kept looping back to the one, blaring question:

_Why?_

Why did Ballad side with Advent in the first place? What did they offer him that the Tides could not?

He was not like Echo—getting into trouble constantly, moved to the fringes of a society that didn’t work to accept them, though they did little to make themself acceptable. He had the possibility of a future, the chance to take over their family’s business.

And Ballad threw that all away for a fancy white coat and hands stained with the death of a Divine.

“I really don’t, Gig,” Echo finally says, unable to hide their exhaustion from their tone. “My job isn’t to have hunches.”

Gig looks like he wants to say more, to create some sort of sensational story with the information he has and wild speculation, but instead he mirrors their sigh and nudges them with his elbow. “Alright, I get it. But if you ever want to do an exclusive interview—”

“Noooope.”

“Come on. Just a small one? Not even a little teeny tiny one?”

“Bye, Gig!”

“You know where to find me!!” he calls good naturedly after them as Echo leaves the dining area to make their way back to Signet’s offices.

The entry to Signet's offices is quiet, only the distant and constant sound of Thyrsus' engines and gears turning filling the room.

She couldn't have gone far, because a glass mug of tea sits still steaming on her desk.

So they ease the door shut behind them and step into the room. "Lady Excerpt?" they call, idly tidying some of the papers up on her desk.

"I'm in here, Echo," she responds, voice floating over from one of the side rooms that extend off of her main office.

They follow the summons into a little parlor of sorts, several low couches angled comfortably around the room, and a window out over the back end of the city taking up much of the wall. A bench is carved into the edifice, creating a comfortable window seat that has been decorated with plush pillows.

Signet doesn't turn away from the view of the countryside they leave behind them. "I apologize," she says absently. "I needed a break from work."

"Is there anything I can get you, Lady Excerpt? You left your tea in the other room."

An absent smile flits across her face, though it doesn't stay long. "You're my bodyguard, not my personal aide."

"I can do both. I'm perfectly capable of multi-tasking."

This time, the smile stays a bit longer and she gestures them over. "No, I am fine. Come enjoy the view."

Echo moves to stand across from her, leaning over to peer at the downward curve of the city. The evidence of their passing takes the form of deep gouges into the earth from the mechanical feet. They've never seen the entirety of a city still in motion, as the Tides settled quickly down to mourn the loss of Except Will long before they were born.

Now, only Thyrsus wanders, powered by the pulse of Belgard, although Signet keeps the Divine far from the city.

But they have seen paintings of the city, with its mechanical spider-like legs propelling it forward. The dome stretches overhead, reflecting the light from outside and encouraging the plants to grow, which in turn provide shade and help divide the open space in the center of the dome into smaller sections. Hanging vines and decorative shrubs and above it all, a glass ceiling held together with gilded and opalescent beams.

It's easy to look up and get lost in the splendor.

Signet keeps one such painting of Thyrsus in her office, alongside a painting of Belgard. Her two wards, spread so far across Quire.

There's a comfortable silence in the room as they both watch countryside pass. From this high up, the curvature of the planet is so much more pronounced, and Echo spends a brief moment wondering what it would be like to explore all of the open countryside. Not on the run, and not having to answer to anyone.

"Sit with me, Echo," Signet says suddenly, adjusting her posture so that there is ample space for them on the bench with her. She tucks her legs beneath her, and when her attention shifts back to them, some of the weight is gone from her shoulders. Her eyes are clearer, a half-smile comfortably in place.

They're startled by the request, and glance at her in confusion. "What? Why?"

"I wish to talk with you."

"You can do that while I'm standing." They watch an unreadable expression flick over her face, and they're not too sure how to categorize their sudden need to explain themself. "I'm sorry, that was rude. It's just a little weird... Sitting with you feels so casual."

They immediately regret their choice of words as the shutters to back up behind her eyes and her smile freezes in place as she turns back towards the window. "Is it so bad to be on the same level as me, I wonder?"

Echo doesn't know how to respond, so instead they watch her profile, study the way the planes of her face catch the light from the overhead sun.

They drop onto the vacant spot on the window seat almost without meaning to, gravity pulling them down as much as their own mind making itself up.

Signet looks to them, clearly caught off guard.

"I don't know if I can ever be on your level," Echo starts, and they hold her gaze steady as they hurry to add, "but at least we look closer to the same height while sitting."

She blinks, then a laugh is startled out of her. "Perhaps we can get you some taller heels with your next uniform. They will make your legs look longer."

While they're certain that they're not blushing, their pulse does a weird little stutter as she smiles and tilts to rest the side of her head against her fist. "I'm afraid I'm doomed to be short."

"You're a perfectly normal height. I am just very tall."

"I've yet to ask—how is the weather up there?"

Signet laughs again, and nudges at their thigh with her foot. "Come now. Play nice."

They bat their eyelashes innocently at her and wonder when they started to feel so smug bringing the color to her cheeks. "I'm always nice, Lady Excerpt."

"And you're always very formal. Still no chance of getting you to drop the title yet?"

Echo doesn't know how to tell her that it comes part and parcel with feeling like they will never be on her level, or anywhere even near it—and that her name is a close and personal thing that they don't know how to use.

But she seems to understand all the same and her smile softens a degree. "Ah, well. There's still time. You're young, and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Ah, good," they say, mimicking her tone. "Then I have many years left yet to stubbornly ignore this one request of yours. My true rebel nature, shining through."

Signet hesitates a beat before asking, "Do you think you will stay?"

Echo considers this, and when they turn to look out the window, they see their own face reflected back at them. "I'm not sure."

"I never thought... Do you miss your family?"

Their jaw tightens, but their shoulders droop. "That's a hard question to answer."

"I apologize. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

"It's not that, it's just..." Echo closes their eyes and lets their forehead drop against the glass before resting their chin in the palm of their hand. From the corner of their eye, they can see Signet watching them carefully. "I didn't leave on the best of terms? I mean, when does a child who is a small-time criminal ever leave on _good_ terms, but I sort of... left."

She is silent for some time, though it is comfortable and easy. They don't fidget beneath her attention, or attempt to fill the gap with meaningless words. "If you ever wish to see them, please know that all you have to do is ask."

"I... Yeah." They let out a breath and turn a faint smile to her. "Thank you."

Signet studies them a moment longer, and they let her. Then she stares back out the window, and they do the same.

"You see the path that we make?" she says suddenly, pointing at the gash left behind by a passing foot.

They let out a good-natured snort. "It's hard to miss, Lady Excerpt."

Her finger ticks from the closest to the one left behind before that, then back and back until it's merely pointing at the distant horizon. "When the first people of Quire saw the Divines, they thought to bring themselves out of the reach of these monsters. They designed ships to run, to flee the shadows of these beasts that brought with them a strange new magic called the Mirage."

"The Divines aren't from here?"

She shakes her head, and her hand angles higher, to the pale blue sky—wisps of clouds stretched across the expanse. "The stars were lonely, and they looked down on Quire and saw that the people loved and worshiped their planet. The stars, too, wanted to be loved and worshiped. So some of them stepped down from the heavens, whole constellations pulling themselves from the fabric of the cosmos so that they could walk among the people they watched."

As she tells the story, her voice pitches low in the space between them. Her fingers sketch shapes along the panes of glass, and Echo sees lines of starstuff in their wake.

"But when they arrived, the people of Quire feared them. And they built these ships to find somewhere new to live, somewhere safe. It wasn't until generations later—hundreds, thousands of years, even—that they finally learned to coexist with one another. The First Excerpt did not tame a Divine, but she learned its heart. And to know the heart of a thing so ancient and marvelous..." Signet presses her palm against the glass, and she closes her eyes. "When a Divine dies, we were to send them back to the stars."

Echo finds themself unable to look away from her profile, the struggle in every line of her. "Is that what you plan to do for Empyrean?"

She nods, once—a curt up and down motion of her head, still unable to open her eyes.

"And when you..." They can't bring themself to say the words.

"I am the last, Little Flame," she says, and they can feel the weight of her sadness as she looks to them. "There will be no one left to mourn me."

"That's not true," Echo starts, and she makes to cut in, but they talk louder over her. "All of Thyrsus will. The Beloved will." There's a beat, and the pressure in their chest boils over and they find themself saying, "I will."

"Echo—"

"Lady Excerpt, you are the last, but you aren't alone. You know that, right?" They hadn't realized that they had scooted closer on the window seat, leaning into her space to implore her to listen.

Signet's expression melts like ice, but there's still the dark current running beneath. She lifts a hand presses it to the side of their face. "Oh, Echo. Do you really think that you would be willing to send me off when the time comes?"

They don't know how to interpret her tone. It's not dismissive of their offer, but something more beyond that.

Her hand is cool against their cheek, and they reach for it without thinking. As they speak, they clutch her hand in both of theirs, pressing the tips of their fingers against her palm, willing her to believe them. "If you're asking if I'll still be around, in all honesty, I think you'll live a lot longer than me, so maybe not. But... on the off-chance that I am… I've offered you all I have, Lady Excerpt. Would you let me do this one thing for you?”

This time, Signet laughs and pulls her hand free, then lays it gently on the lapel of their coat. The edges of the flame pin are small pin-points of pressure beneath her touch. "Thank you. Truly, it means a lot to me. I am glad to know that you have come to feel so comfortable here, and with me." Her grip tightens, and the leans into the space as well, cutting it down even further until Echo isn't certain they'll be able to remember how to breathe. "There is still yet much darkness in our path, but I am glad that you will be at my side, Little Flame."

And then the spell is broken, and Signet pulls away to rise to her feet in one graceful motion.

She sighs, and says something about getting back to work, but Echo remains seated as they watch her pass through back into her main office.

Somehow, over the course of nearly two months, they found their place at her side. Their pulse moves rabbit quick in their chest at the memory of her words, and every inch of them feels aflame.

Ready to burn themself as kindling, if she would ask that of them.

 _Little Flame_ , she says, and they would answer in a heartbeat.


	8. Chapter 8

Seance is a massive city, sprawling across miles of desert. As Thyrsus approaches early that final morning of their trip, Echo and Signet join Even in the cockpit to observe the path Seance carved in the surface of Quire.

It gouged a ravine as its systems began to fail, digging itself into the soft dirt as dying legs clawed the last few desperate miles.

On the radar, Empyrean shows up as a dark green shape, barely within the scope of Thyrsus' sensors.

"It's about two to three leagues out, Lady Signet," Even says as they stand on the edge of the desert. "I would advise against pressing the city any further. The legs aren't designed for this kind of terrain."

"I understand." Signet is dressed in flowing blue robes, a gauzy shawl around her shoulders in defiance of the heat sinking in through the walls in the belly of her city. "We will take a small landing party and meet with the others. Move us to more stable ground. Echo and I will join you in the hangar bay."

Even salutes, and Signet shakes her head in worn but amused exasperation.

Echo follows behind as she makes her way back to her quarters. "Lady Excerpt, will the people of Seance be alright?"

"You are from the Tides of Harmony, hm?" She glances back at them over her shoulder, giving them the chance to answer this line of questioning even though she knows the answer. Once they nod, she continues. "How was it when... How did the Tides fare when Harmony died?"

This isn't the first time she's asked this question, but they've always managed to skirt around it whenever it came up. They make a small noise in the back of their throat and shrug. "It happened well before I was born. My family was always okay, but they also didn’t talk about what had happened." The school always did well, and before leaving the Tides altogether, Ballad had been a solid presence in Echo's life.

Their sister Legato, at least, was perfectly normal and balanced despite Echo's terrible influence.

"You know, I never really... thought about Advent's presence in the Tides until now..." Echo muses. "But they were likely the cause for Harmony's death also."

Signet's response is soft, clipped, barely audible over the sound of their footfalls. "Yes." A shiver passes over her shoulders, but then she lifts her head back upright and continues like nothing happened. "Yes, they took down the Divine Harmony, and Excerpt Will was lost in the process. A Divine does not fall without their Excerpt."

"Is that why you keep Belgard away from here?"

"So that if something should happen to me, she would be safe," Signet says with finality. "If ever she were in danger, I would rush to her side in an instant. I would not let her suffer without me."

"But you would be willing to throw yourself into danger if it meant saving her?"

She stops so suddenly in the hall that Echo almost runs into her back. Signet turns to face them, and for a moment, they flinch back—uncertain of how she will react. But there is a sadness in her expression, an uncertainty finally brought to the surface. "Do you think that's strange? That I would do that?"

Echo hesitates, then slowly shakes their head. "I don't know if I've ever cared about anything or anyone that much in my entire life. I'm not qualified to answer that."

"You're young," she starts, and Echo can't help the bark of laughter. "There's still yet time."

"Lady Excerpt, no offense, but everyone is young compared to you." They cross their arms over their chest.

A smile settles into place on her expression and she tilts her head to the side. "Perhaps, but it does not make me wrong."

"No, it just makes you a little biased."

This time, she laughs as well, and the tension starts to bleed from the space between them. "That is fair. Now come on. I need to change into something a little more formal."

* * *

Gig joins the landing party, camera tucked under one arm, and grin plastered firmly on his face. "This is so exciting," he says to Echo, coming to stand alongside them as they wait for Even and a few of the other soldiers to prep the transport they will be taking. "There's so much I want to talk about!"

As they all settle into their seats, Gig takes a spot immediately across from Signet and launches into a series of questions—jotting down her answers in a little notebook.

It's not a terribly long ride, but Echo, sitting on Signet's right, notices the way that her shoulders start to tremble and her knuckles turn white where she grips her hands in her lap. But she still maintains a polite smile as she responds to Gig's barrage of questions.

The moment that the transport stills, everyone inside goes completely silent. The windows are tinted, and low, so it is hard to get a good view out of the surrounding landscape. But the shadows cutting across the sand are an obvious indicator of the scale of the thing that awaits them outside.

Even moves first, releasing the hatch and stepping out into the glare of the overhead sun reflecting off the sand. Gig goes next, setting up his camera equipment as the soldiers file out.

Only Echo and Signet remain inside.

Distantly, they're aware of Even giving orders, and makes note for a team to locate Tender, Fourteen, and the rest of the perimeter crew.

Still, Signet doesn't budge.

Echo reaches out a hand and gently pulls one of hers free. "Lady Excerpt, it's time."

She nods, mute, and allows them to guide her to her feet. They help her out of the transport and over to stand alongside Even and Gig, who converse in low tones.

Slowly, Echo turns their gaze towards the Divine, and their breath catches in their lungs.

The corpse of Empyrean is a great hulking thing, even half-sunken into the sand. Even with the evidence of Advent's handiwork picking it to the bones.

Echo has never seen a Divine in the flesh before. Only photos and news reels.

It spans the horizon, jagged lines jutting into the pale blue sky. Part of its left shoulder is caved in, which must have been where an Advent ship made its escape. It has only been two months since the penultimate Divine fell. What remains is starting to be bleached by the desert sun and scrubbed clean by the driving sands.

Signet makes a sound as she takes the first step forward. A sharp inhale, eyes unwavering on the silhouette of Empyrean. A second step, then a third, and she stumbles in the uneven sand.

She presses the back of one hand to her mouth and keeps walking. Her shoulders are straight, but Echo can see the way they start to droop the further she gets on.

"Excerpts used to do a ritual for fallen Divines," Gig whispers, leaning down next to them as he keeps his camera trained on Signet. "No one really knows the specifics because, well, the only people who _needed_ to know were the Excerpts. But then they all started dying, and Advent showed up, and, well…" He waves a hand at Signet's back. "She's the last person who knows."

"You don't think the Cadent knows?" This would certainly explain why Signet left the Cadent out of the list of people to send her off, should anything happen. If even the Cadent, leader of the Divine States, didn't know the ritual, then Signet is truly the last.

Their heart hurts as they watch her. She holds this secret so close to her chest, even at the risk of being completely alone. How long has it been since she's known anything other than being an Excerpt?

Gig considers this, then shrugs. "Maybe. She's a little young, so the last officially conducted ritual happened before her time."

Ahead of them, Signet stumbles again, and in the silence of the makeshift grave, Echo hears an involuntary cry from her that's more of a sob than anything. There's a beat, then two, then she pushes herself back to her feet. But now her composure is gone, and she gathers fistfuls of her robes in her hands. Her pace turns from a stately walk into something faster—and faster and faster until she's running—kicking up sand behind her as she goes.

"That's my cue," Gig says with a grin. He glances at Echo and gestures ahead. "Shall we?" He takes a confident step forward, but Even's hand swings out and catches him in the chest before he can take more than two steps. A winded 'oof' escapes his lungs as he stumbles back into place. "What was that for?"

"You're not allowed." Even's gaze is focused dead ahead, a small crease in his brow the only mark of frustration.

"What?!" He sputters in honest surprise, as if the concept of _not being allowed_ anywhere is foreign to him. "I'm supposed to film the Excerpt. That's my _job_."

"Not now," Even says. "Right now, she's not the last Excerpt."

"Then what's she supposed to be?"

Even hesitates, and for a moment, his defenses come down. He glances at Gig, then at Echo, and says, "She's a woman in mourning."

Echo watches as Signet enters Empyrean’s shadow. They can barely make out any details at this point, but they're pretty certain she might have lost her gauzy shawl along the way.

The distance between them is a rippling expanse of sand, dancing in the heat. But Even's words run on a loop inside their head. Over and over, until it resolves into a simple solution: She shouldn't be alone.

"Hold this," Echo says, passing Elegy over to Gig. Without waiting to hear his response, or wondering if Even will stop them, they follow after Signet.

Her shallow footsteps through the sand are still visible, and they match their step to hers.

Part of the way there, they stoop to pick up the gossamer blue shawl several feet away—having to run after it and catch it before another gust of wind could carry it further.

When they look up, they catch sight of her flash of pale blonde hair disappearing inside the Divine, and with a tired sigh, they continue their trek.

This close, finally in the shadow of the thing, they can hear the echoing moans trapped in the sands. Clinging to the memories of its last moments alive. The metal and bones shifting and settling, wanting to give out, but hanging on for one last thing.

Perhaps this is what Signet will give it: A chance to rest.

Finally, Echo stands at the base of it. They crane their neck as they look up up up—unable to make out the top before they feel like they might tilt over. There's markings on the shell of it, long scrapes where someone might have fit a crowbar to pry off the casing. They reach out and trace the lines of it, feeling the grooves beneath the tips of their fingers.

 _The flesh of a Divine,_ says Ballad's voice in the back of their mind, and they flinch away. _It will get made into medicine for those who are sick._

"Better to put it to use, than be like the States and let it rot," Echo whispers, repeating his words. They place their palm against the marks and lean into it. "But did you have to kill it?"

Advent had everything down perfectly, possibly even hedging their bets on the knowledge that the Excerpt would pursue the individual infiltration instead of their large-scale attack.

It has Ballad's handiwork all over it, the layers of pieces spaced in such a way that you can't see the whole board except from the right angle.

But Signet did have that angle. She knew about the possibility of the attack, and had the monumental decision resting on her shoulders: Defend one Divine, or the culture and knowledge that has been kept safe as the cities start to die.

The guilt must be eating her up inside.

_I failed twice, and that is the choice that I made. That is the knowledge I have to live with._

Echo presses their hand harder against the metal, until the bite of the sand pushes back. This whole time, they've used the living Excerpts as a thing to blame for the Tides' losing Harmony. Even as the numbers continued to dwindle, in Echo's mind, it compounded the blame until it turned their anger into a blade.

That is why the offer from Advent had been so tempting. _Get back at the States who have done nothing for you. This culture rooted in the past, and they are blind to the future._ Each Divine lost driving the point home.

The Divine States are dying, and the people with it.

Advent brought a possible new way of life. But they did not care the cost that it took on those who still remained.

Somewhere from within the depths of the corpse comes a low, anguished wail—stifled, despite the fact that she's alone. Signet clinging to some sense of decorum despite everything.

"Lady?" they call, cupping their hands around their mouth. Their voice feels small and insignificant in the otherwise stifling silence. "Lady Excerpt, are you alright?"

There's a soft sound in response, broken and distant. But their heart lurches at the emotion behind it. Her cry, caught on a sob. Her own heart, breaking.

Mind made up, Echo wraps the shawl around their waist and finds the first handhold. They had missed Signet's progress up the side of the Divine, but they've seen evidence of her ample dexterity. Not one to be outdone or left behind, Echo hauls themself upward.

Hand over hand, finding any little crevice that the tips of their fingers can fit into, feet scrambling for purchase. They move with confidence, because any hesitation would mean a chance to fall. Up and up and up, Empyrean sprawling the entire length of their vision.

Crashing metal reverberates through its casing, and Signet's distressed voice echoes through the cavern inside. It spurs them on faster, keeping one ear out for any accident that might befall her, or someone else's presence.

Their arms burn by the time they heave themself to the edge of the splintered rib cage. Light filters in through the busted walls and the missing shoulder.

Signet's strangled cry from somewhere just out of sight kicks them back into action.

Echo slides over the edge and into the hollow chest. They land unsteadily on the broken ground, but keep their footing. "Lady?!" they call, coughing at the sand they knocked loose. "Are you alright?"

They step out of the cascade of light, picking their way as their eyes adjust to the diffused glow. Everything inside has been scavenged—the bare bones of the thing stretching overhead. It stands like an empty hall. Every little sound echos back to them, distorted and warped in the cavernous space.

It stretches behind them for what seems like miles, but is probably only a few hundred feet. It’s difficult to orient themself, or even to imagine what it would look like when functioning.

Almost two months, and it looks so empty. The ravages of time have nothing on greedy fingers.

Her voice cracks when she says, "Echo, leave me be."

"I can't do that."

"I order you to."

The laugh is there in the back of their throat until their eyes land on her.

Signet stands in the middle of the cockpit, shoulders heaving as she presses her clasped hands to her face. Something small and gold glints between her fingers.

"Lady—" they start, and she recoils bodily, stumbling back a step as they stand there, helpless.

She tries to speak, but only a strained wheeze of breath seeps from her throat. It draws out, muffled against her palms until it finally breaks. She inhales, a loud and heavy thing, and she collapses in on herself. Doubling over as she cries, shaking all over with each wracking sob.

Echo doesn't know how to react. Their legs remain rooted, everything about them as still as they can make it.

 _This_ is what Advent's actions brought. On a smaller, personal scale, this is what their attack did.

 _No one will be hurt,_ Ballad had said, and when he said that, he meant 'innocents'. Their attack would be kept away from any of the routes of the wandering cities, and the States would be too distracted with the one-off infiltrations.

To Advent, Signet does not qualify as 'an innocent'. She is a part of the ancient problem, not their new solution.

They can't help the tinge of guilt, and that is why they can't approach her.

"They've taken everything," Signet finally manages, barely audible. "I couldn't even find Empyrean's heart."

Something lurches unsettlingly in Echo's stomach. "Its heart?"

A reminder that the Divine was a living creature—a heart, a brain, organic materials making up the entirety of the beast. They weren't just technological marvels. Things of the stars and heavens, according to Signet’s story, made flesh as they fell to Quire.

Tamed by human hands, and worshiped as gods. When a Divine fell, it was given due diligence until Advent coalesced.

Where the States saw a mystery to be respected, Advent saw profit to be made.

Signet finally looks at them, and the vulnerability in her expression spurs them into movement. This time, instead of flinching away, she holds out a hand towards them, and Echo takes it as they kneel beside her. "The heart of the Divine stores information," she says, holding onto their hand as if it is the only thing keeping her steady. "I was hoping for confirmation that Blooming had escaped, might still be alive but…"

"It's been over two months," Echo says, regretting the words as soon as they come out of their mouth at the disappointment in her posture. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, the movement barely noticeable if not for the way that her disheveled hair slips loose against her cheek. "Don't be. I held onto a hope I shouldn't have. I knew that…" Her breath hitches, but she maintains the composure she's scrounged together. "I knew."

Echo shifts until they're sitting on the floor beside her. They let her shift her grip on their hand to loop her arm through theirs and rest her head on their shoulder. It's easier once they can't see her face. "What is it that you found?"

Signet sniffles and holds out her hands. Cupped in her palms is a red flower with a black center, the edges of the petals lined in gold. "A poppy pin. I gave it to her when she first started to pilot Empyrean. She could have used this to call for me."

She smooths her thumb against the surface of it. "I didn't know until it was too late."

And still she managed to put on the badge of the Beloved and go after Echo the morning she heard the news.

"I'm sorry," they say again, and when they feel her start to shift, they lean over so they can rest their head against hers. They don't want to have to face her again yet.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Echo."

"I was a part of the distraction. Advent used the auditions across several cities to keep your attention away. And I was one of them—"

She lets out a breath that might be a huff of laughter. "No, you were just as much a tool for them as you were on behalf of them. You know that I don't blame you for this, don't you?"

They didn't. They had no reason to believe that, after everything. "I don't see how you can't."

"You didn't know me. It was circumstances that landed you in that city the day I happened to be there."

"I could be an outlet for your anger—"

Signet sits up, drawing away from them. And before Echo can finish their thought, or to protest, she reaches out and presses her palm gently against their cheek. There's still a faint trembling to her, and her eyes are red-rimmed and stained with tears. But she holds their gaze firm and shakes her head. "Don't say that, Echo. Know that you always have a voice, and you should never use it to punish yourself."

Echo doesn't know how to respond. They return her careful study with stunned silence.

The corner of her mouth ticks up in a smile and she finally turns away. "You look like I told you something revolutionary."

"Lady, I—" They don't know how to tell her that they've been fighting to be heard their entire life. So instead they shift gears, guiding the conversation away from them and back towards her. "I didn't think Excerpts handed out free life advice. Don't people normally have to like... Line up for hours on end just for a chance for you to wave your hand in their general direction?"

A laugh is startled out of her and she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're my bodyguard. I'm afraid that you'll be subject to that by proxy." Her expression softens, and she considers the pin in her grip.

Echo leans back against the metallic wall, getting a good look at the interior of the Divine. "Does your Divine look like this? I mean, back when it was... alive." They wince, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"No, Belgard's interior is... softer, I suppose. Her focus is different than Empyrean's, and that's reflected in her form." Signet smooths her thumb over the pin, and there seems to be a thought caught in her mouth that she won't speak. "Perhaps..." she starts, slowly, "I will take you to meet Belgard one day."

They aren't too sure what their feelings do at that point—a strange combination of guilt and unease, of interest and confusion. "Me? To _meet_ your Divine?"

"If you don't quit your job first." It might be meant as a joke, but she doesn't look up from the poppy pin in her grip, and there's a weight behind the comment that compels Echo to blurt out an immediate response.

"I wouldn't quit." Then, a beat later, to try and defuse the awkwardness, they say, "I didn't know quitting was an option."

"Of course it is. Just like you have a voice in my court, you will also have a choice to remain in my court. I thought I told you that when I took you on the tour of Thyrsus. You are free to leave at any time." Signet fastens the pin to her robes, then rises to her feet.

Echo tracks her movements with a furrowed brow. But before they can form a question, the light filtering in from the Divine's broken shoulder catches _just so_ on the shards of gold and crystal that make up her crown. And as Signet lifts her chin to turn her face up to the sun, Echo finds themself speechless at the sight.

Signet turns to them and reaches out her hand.

Echo takes it without hesitation.

She helps them to their feet, but does not immediately relinquish her grip. Her touch is cool and gentle as she clasps their hand in both of hers. "Thank you, Echo."

They want to ask her what for, but all they can do is nod.

After a beat, she squeezes their hand and releases it with a watery smile. "Come, let's get out of here. I will say my prayers, and then we can be done."

This snaps Echo back into the present, and they shake their head to clear the cloying confusion. Reconciling the image of her as an Excerpt, instead of as the sobbing woman from moments before. "Is there anything that I can do, Lady Excerpt?"

"Make sure I don't fall, but if I do, catch me." With an ease that they had missed before, Signet begins to pull herself up the side of Empyrean. There's a confidence in her movements that they know they lack, no sign of fear or hesitation as she reaches for the next handhold.

As soon as she reaches the breach in Empyrean's hull, she swings herself up onto the edge of it to peer back down into the cockpit. She doesn't say anything, but there's a challenge in the tilt of her smile as she waits.

Echo can't help the smirk on their own lips as they haul themself up after her.

* * *

Signet allows Gig to film her performing the ritual.

It's a deceptively simple affair. She recites scripture in the old tongue, her voice like a song. She paints the image of the stars dancing across the night sky as she moves about the white sand in her robes of dark blues and golds.

It ends with a list, word after word in the old tongue, all a steady stream without hesitation. She moves through them with her eyes closed and her fingers sketching symbols in the air before her.

Echo's not too sure when they realize that she is naming each of the fallen Divines. Two hundred and ninety nine of them.

When she reaches Empyrean's name, she lifts her fingers to her lips, touching them there briefly before raising her hand to the darkening sky. "We send you back," she says, and without prompting, those that have gathered—Even and his Soldiers, Fourteen and Tender, and Echo and Gig—all speak the last line with her.

"May you find your way home."


	9. Chapter 9

The moment they return to Thyrsus, Signet disembarks from the pod so quickly that Echo has to scramble to keep up with her.

She strides with purpose down the halls, through the courtyards, heading directly for her own private rooms with Echo close on her heels.

It’s only when the door to her room slams shut in their face that they realize that she might want to take time to herself. Or, possibly, that she had even forgotten they were there. There’s a distant commotion from her quarters, but nothing that sounds destructive or harmful.

So Echo turns their back against the wall and rests against it, Elegy leaning against their hip. They lift a hand to the collar of their coat, toying with the small pin.

The door to her room opens with a bit more control than when she closed it, and Echo immediately snaps to attention as Signet steps into the hall. She’s dressed far more casually, but even that involves floor-length dresses of decorative fabric and sheer wraps around her shoulders.

Her gaze settles on Echo, eyes going wide. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” They look around, acting as if they’re uncertain what door they’re standing in front of and need to check. “I’m watching after you?”

For an instant, her expression darkness into a frown, but she quickly smooths it back over. “No need. You’re dismissed for the rest of the evening.”

It’s Echo’s turn to frown, but Signet turns to walk away before they can even completely process what she said. “Hey, wait!”

“I said you’re dismissed, Echo.”

“I’m not going to stand by while you sneak out.”

This time, she stops and whirls on them with a look of utter surprise and indignation. “I am not _sneaking_! I am telling you that I am leaving.” She lifts her chin a degree and sniffs dismissively. “Besides, I am a grown woman.”

Echo challenges her stare with one of their own, lifting an eyebrow as they sling Elegy back over their shoulder. “Yes, and you hired me to be your bodyguard. I’m only doing my job.”

Signet snaps her mouth shut, and it narrows into a thin frown. Without responding, she turns her back on them and continues on her way.

Echo continues to follow. They’ve had enough practice over the last few months trailing behind her, so they know exactly how to match her pace without even trying.

As they approach the hanger bay, Signet slows to a more stately speed and heaves a sigh. “Echo, you don’t have to keep watch over me all the time.”

They lift up their hands in a shrug. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I know I’m free to do whatever I want to right now, since you dismissed me and all. We just happen to be going in the same direction.”

Thankfully, her expression crumbles to a bemused smile as she sees straight through their casual lie. “I see. And where do you happen to be going this evening?”

Another shrug. “Haven’t decided yet. Suppose I’ll wander around. Say, since we’re going the same way, how about I take the transport pod with you, so we don’t have to take two.”

Signet rolls her eyes, but the smile stays in place. “Alright, fine. Have it your way.”

“I think I will,” Echo says, and holds the door open to the transport pod for her.

She holds her skirts aloft with dainty hands and steps lightly into the transport.

They slip in after as she keys in the destination, and the transport shutters as it rolls out of the bay.

The trip goes in silence, Echo peering out of the tinted window at the countryside speeding past. Out of the corner of their eye, they can see Signet worrying idly at the hem of her scarf, but otherwise keeps her gaze on her window.

Seance looms into view, half buried in a crater of its own creation as it plowed into the soft ground of the desert. It is a long, awkwardly shaped city, and Echo can only imagine what it must have looked like while still active. Already, several small springs have formed where its legs pierced deep into the earth. They can see small figures moving about the towering metal structures, people at a task who pause to watch the pod pass on the edge of the ridge.

"Look there," Signet says suddenly into the silence, pointing down at something.

Echo slides across the bench to peer out of the window. They can see water gushing forth, and the hint of green is already starting to overpower the wet sand. "What is happening?"

"When Perigean and Seiche became grounded, do you remember what happened to the earth around them?"

They think back, trying to recall anything their parents or family friends might have said. "Not... Really? I always remember it being very green. We played in the fields just outside the city walls a lot, but I remember it being fields as far as the eye could see."

Signet's finger taps against the pane of glass. "The first ships were cobbled together things. Whatever metal and tech the people could get their hands on." Her finger starts to trace the outline of Seance as the pod slows to access the bay. "But as time went on and the people of Quire began to turn their devotion to the Divines, they learned things from these new beings. Organic tech, ways to grow even from the most inhospitable environs."

She pauses as the pod docks, and leans over to type something into the control panel. Possibly a clearance code, because the light above flickers to a soft blue and the door eases open.

Echo steps out first, casting a quick glance around the bay before standing aside for Signet. They have to force themself to leave Elegy behind in the pod.

They resist the urge to offer her a hand, trying to not lean into their usual habits as her bodyguard, but she doesn't seem to notice the lack of it.

Instead, she greets a few of the workers with kind words and soft smiles, accepting their bows and offers of prayers with the utmost grace. Signet leads Echo through the bowels of the city and up to the surface with confidence in her step. They wonder how often she's come here, to know some of the workers by name and to know her way around the inner workings of the ship as well as her own.

They emerge into a bustling cityscape, where people are moving too fast and in too big of crowds to even pause to pay either of them any attention. It is so very unlike Thyrsus, whose walls are built with vines and glass to give a feeling of openness despite the enclosed space.

Seance uses brick and mortar, buildings stretching to the dark sky. Lights pour of out the windows and pool across the streets, casting a golden light onto Signet's hair as she heads through the thick crowds. She moves with an ease, and no one stops her.

Here, dressed down as far as she probably can manage, she can pass easily and without recognition. There is no announcement of the Excerpt's arrival blaring across the town. There is no entourage of dignitaries, coming to call her aside for one duty or another. There is no public mourning for their shared loss of Excerpt Blooming.

She walks among them like one of them, and her shoulders start to relax.

Echo has no idea where they are headed, and having never even dreamed of visiting Seance, doesn't know where to begin. Signet doesn't question them following her at this point, and in fact steps back so that she can walk side by side with them, looping her arm through theirs and pulling them along.

"When the city ships go to ground, their legs and inner mechanics are useless," she says, picking back up on the story from when they were in the transport pod. "Traditionally, that would merely rot. Rusting metal monuments to a culture after it dies off. That would be all that is left of us once I am gone. Once the last city finds its resting spot." She speaks clinically, stating facts she has had a long time to consider. "So instead, the cities were created out of material that would decompose. The bodies fertilize the land, leaving the people in the city ground that they can survive off of. Those fields that you remember from your childhood? A gift from Perigean and Seiche when they could no longer travel."

She goes silent for a moment, lost in a memory. But a few more steps, and she shakes her head and glances over at Echo with a gentle smile. “Another way to honor the fallen Divines, and for them to give back to us.”

Echo swallows down the heavy weight of words as they consider and discard each one. Then, carefully trying to string together their thoughts, they start, “Lady Excerpt, I—”

But they don’t get the chance to even finish when their eyes land on the door that Signet approaches.

Involuntarily, they tug her to a stop, eyes wide in confusion. The sign reads _The Gilded Butterfly_ in an elegant script, with several painted butterflies decorating the edges of it.

She pauses, foot on the bottom step of the entrance. “Is there a problem?” There’s not an edge to her voice, but it is a careful tone—curious. Teasing, almost.

“I… don’t know,” they confess as they eye the otherwise unassuming door.

“Are you going to ask me if I’m aware of where I am?”

Slowly, hesitantly, they shake their head.

“Ah,” Signet says, smacking her fist lightly into the palm of her other hand. “You realized that you aren’t where you were intending to go. I apologize, I had you keep me company even though I had dismissed you. If you have elsewhere to be…”

Echo blushes despite themself.

A beat, then she sighs and her shoulders droop. “It doesn’t matter now. If you’re going to keep following me, then come on.” She pulls away from them and approaches the door.

Slowly, awkwardly, Echo follows. The interior is spacious, the lights soft but not dim after stepping in from the evening street.

A low level of chatter fills the lobby room, with a bar to one side and several free-standing tables or chairs and couches scattered about.

The attendant behind the front desk spots the two of them, and recognition immediately lights on her face. “Lady Signet!” she says, delighted, and rounds the desk as Signet turns to the sound of her name.

“Pilar,” Signet replies warmly, and accepts her embrace. “It has been far too long.”

The shock hasn’t quite left Echo’s system since stepping into the house, and it only gets worse. The pieces are starting to slot together in their head, even though they’re not too sure they should know this about her.

Is learning that one’s employer a frequent visitor of a pleasure house really something that one should be allowed to know?

The conversation between Signet and Pilar is brief, and the attendant parts by leaving a fond kiss on her cheek and the promise to catch up when she has the time for less specific pleasures. Pilar gives Echo a brief glance as she leaves—a knowing sort of smirk that is quickly smoothed back into something more professional.

Signet leads Echo over to one of the free-standing tables without saying anything further, and they don’t know how to breach the silence between them. Any sort of conversation at this point seems awkward, and the hesitation they wanted to voice before no longer feels appropriate in this setting.

She leans against the table, her hip cocked to one side and her face angled towards the back of the room. Her chin is propped in her hand, and the tip of a finger taps idly at her lower lip. Echo takes that moment to survey her, trying to figure out what she must be thinking.

Her gaze flicks to the side, and she catches them staring. Before they can get the chance to react, she looks away again, and they wonder if she even realized what they had been doing.

The question comes a minute later. “What do you think of me, Echo?”

“Uh—” they start, and a smile ticks at the corner of her mouth, though she quickly disguises it with her hand. They have been at her side for two months, and every day they discover something new about her. They spend a moment wondering why they can’t seem to look away from her hand as it rests on the table, her long and slender fingers contrasting sharply against the dark wood. It’s easier to study than her face, they figure.

Echo takes a breath and holds it, contemplating their answer. Finding none, they finally say, “I don’t… think I have an opinion yet.”

She considers this in silence. “One that I would want to hear, or you honestly don’t have one?”

They go cold and warm all at once. “Lady Excerpt, I—”

Her shoulders shake in laughter. “I’m sorry. I’m teasing you. You don’t have to say anything.”

They think that they might, to tell her that each time they think they have her figured out, she goes and surprises them again. That they can’t stop watching her to figure out what sort of action she will take next.

That she is the most fascinating person they’ve ever met, and her being the Excerpt and a member of the Beloved is the least of it.

Instead, Signet says, “Another question to consider: Do you really think so little of yourself?”

This is not something they’ve ever contemplated. Their stomach flips unsettlingly, and they can only manage a half-hearted, confused, “What do you mean?”

“You disregard yourself constantly. I thought at first it might be a victim complex, but you don’t say it in a way that reaches for pity. You say these things because you honestly believe them to be true about yourself.” Signet turns her gaze to them, fingers still covering her lips so they can’t see the full extent of her expression. But her eyes bore into them, searching for the answers to a question they don’t want to think about. “You treat your actions as insignificant, your place in the hierarchy of society as little more than a speck. You tease and ask if I would replace you as my bodyguard, you ask me to blame you for the result of an action to my own choice.”

They don’t know how to answer, so they don’t. They return her stare and wonder if she finds what she’s looking for when her head tilts to the side and she extends her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear.

“If nothing else, Little Flame, know that you matter to me.”

The nickname tugs at something in their chest, the unconscious pull to respond to her call as she draws away.

They’re saved from awkwardly fumbling for words when a person in a lovely blue dress appears at Signet’s elbow with a delighted smile in place.

“Signet! You didn’t tell me you were going to be in town!” they say, not even seeming to notice Echo standing there. “I only just heard that Thyrsus was nearby, but I didn’t think to hope you would come to see me.”

Signet’s entire demeanor shifts, and a softness overwrites the weary expression she’d worn since that afternoon. “Polyphony,” she says, and takes the person’s hand so that she can place a gentle kiss to their knuckles. “Of course I would come see you given the chance.”

They laugh and shift their grip easily so that they can pull her in for a kiss to her lips. “Always so formal.”

Echo doesn’t even realize that the blush had returned until Polyphony, an arm comfortably around Signet’s waist, turns wide delighted eyes in their direction.

“And who is this? Not your usual type, Signet,” Polyphony teases, and Echo can feel the heat flare across the back of their neck and all the way to the tip of their ears. Polyphony opens their mouth to say something else, a clever little smile in place, but Signet cuts in and extends a hand in Echo’s direction.

“They are my new bodyguard. They escorted me here from Thyrsus, but now they are free to do whatever they please for the evening.” Something shifts in her expression, and she turns back towards the woman at the desk. “Pilar, should my bodyguard require _anything_ , please see to it that they receive it.”

“Lady Excerpt—!”

“Always the best for you and yours,” Pilar replies with a polite bow of her head.

Signet starts to turn away, and Echo knows that they have to act fast. Their hand darts out and catches onto her wrist before it can slip from the table they had been leaning against. "Lady Excerpt, please. A moment before you go."

She lifts an eyebrow, then gives a short nod to Polyphony. "If you please."

Polyphony gives an extremely cute sigh and roll of their eyes, but it earns a fond smile and a kiss to their cheek from Signet. They step away from the table and hover a few feet back, hands locked politely in front of them as they wait.

Signet doesn't seem mad that Echo had stopped her, but there's a building tension between them the longer they hold onto her wrist. "What is it?"

"I just..." Now that they have her, have her attention, they don't know what they want to say.

"Want me to be safe?"

"No—well, yes, that, always, but that's not what... About today..."

The tired, weary expression returns to her face, and she lifts a hand as if to try and wipe it away. "Echo, there is nothing to talk about."

They know they could argue to the contrary, but not here. And it's obvious that she is here so that she can _not_ think about what happened today. So, slowly, they release their hold on her wrist and draw back. "I trust you, and I know you're doing what is best for you," they say on an exhale, and her shoulders drop a degree. "It's my job to worry about you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to force myself into your private affairs like this."

Signet lets out a soft breath and steps in to adjust their coat around their shoulders, fussing with the collar a bit longer than necessary. "If I truly did not want you here, I would not have allowed you to come." The tips of her fingers graze the silver flame at their throat. "I trust you, too, and I know you have my best interests at heart."

"You're a grown woman," Echo teases, returning her own words to her. "You know what you want and need better than I do."

This gets her to laugh and she steps back. "Thank you. And when you figure out what you want, let Pilar know," she adds with a wink.

"That's not what I meant—!"

But Signet laughs again, and holds out her hand towards Polyphony, who takes it and begins to lead her away. "Have a good evening, Echo."

Echo bites the inside of their cheek and crosses their arms over their chest with a huff of frustration.

Something slaps onto the table, causing Echo to jump and whirl around.

Pilar smiles politely and pushes a booklet across the table to them. "For your perusal."

Echo stares at the cover of it curiously, studying the embossed gold butterfly on the plane of black. They flip it open to a random page, then immediately frown when they realize that it is a list of the hosts available. "No, thank you."

"There's also an extensive bar and restaurant menu," Pilar says just as quickly, as if anticipating this response from them, and flips it to the back section. "Lady Signet is a tease when she has a mind to be, but we do have more than those sorts of things to offer." She taps the delicately scripted 'MENU' across the top of the page before drawing back. "Just take a look."

"I'm not—" They cut themself off when their stomach rumbles, and Pilar's smile turns delighted at having finally found a way to respect Signet's request. "Alright, I will take some food."

"I had hoped so."

Echo glances quickly through the back half of the menu, ordering a light meal and a coffee. "Can you tell me which room is Polyphony's?"

At this, Pilar looks thoroughly amused, though she pretends to act scandalized as she says, "I'm pretty certain you need to ask both of them for their consent before you barge in."

Mortified, Echo tries to find the best way to backtrack out of that implication—finding that their actual excuse isn't much better. "No, it's not—I'm not—I don't plan on _joining_ them," they finally squeak out. "I just want to know that the Lady Excerpt is alright."

"Trust me, Mx. Bodyguard, she's in _extremely_ capable hands." Pilar reaches out and pats their shoulder. "But if you promise not to disturb any of the other clients, and if you promise to actually sit and enjoy your dinner, I will tell you."

Echo huffs out a sigh and nods. "Yeah. Thanks."

"No, thank you," she says as she takes back the menu. Her expression sobers, and she turns her gaze down to the booklet. "I can only imagine what Lady Signet must be going through right now. It is good that she has you looking after her."

They don't know how to respond to that, so they nod mutely and watch her leave to put in their order. They consider this, turning it over and over again in their head, and wonder if what they are doing is helping Signet in any way.


	10. Chapter 10

Echo loses track of how much time passes. The hallway is silent, though there is the occasional murmur of voices or delighted laughter from behind closed doors.

Pilar leaves them alone, though she does bring them another coffee before she leaves at the end of her shift, letting them know in a soft voice the name of the person at the desk should they require anything.

They keep their knees drawn up to their chest and go from resting their chin against their knees to finally half-drifting off to sleep with their head tucked in the crook of their arm as they hug their legs closer.

At some unknown hour, the door opens behind them, and they suddenly find themself jerking awake as they tumble back into the room.

Signet stares down at them in surprise. It’s a little hard to tell if it’s a good or a bad sort of surprise, looking at it upside down.

“You okay?” Polyphony calls from within the room, and Signet makes a small sound of amusement as her expression smooths back over.

“We are fine. Thank you. Thyrsus will be in the area for the time being. I’ll call on you again when I visit Seance next.” Signet slips gracefully into the hall as Echo scrambles out of the way.

Their leg had fallen asleep at some point during the night, and their head spins in a rather inconvenient way. “Lady Excerpt, I—”

She doesn’t give them the chance to say anything. Instead, she crouches down alongside them and studies their face in the dim light. “Were you out here all night?”

They consider lying for a moment, but know that she could ask anyone else for the truth. So instead, they say, “Yes.”

Signet tilts her head to the side, lips pursed. “Why did you wait?”

Echo has always had a hard time reading her, and now is no different. They can’t identify the tone of her voice—there’s a tinge of annoyance, but something else, too. “I’m your bodyguard.”

She snorts and makes a face. “I dismissed you for the night before leaving Thyrsus, yet you followed me anyway. And while I didn’t send you away even then, I told you to take time for yourself. Yet here you are. Why did you wait, Echo?”

They find themself unable to tear their eyes away. “You’re sad and lonely right now, and I get that. And it’s honestly not that I thought someone was going to attack you. You’re vulnerable, and I wanted to—”

Signet cuts them off by wrapping her arms around their shoulders and pressing her forehead to their shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, barely audible. There’s something in her tone that makes the meaning different from when she said it to them the day before, in the carved out chest of Empyrean, or last night before leaving with Polyphony.

This time, they have to ask. “For what?”

“For caring.”

Echo doesn’t know how to respond—they want to tell her that they’re quite certain Even cares, that Tender and Fourteen and probably the Cadent, from what they can tell. They all care deeply about her, and Echo is just one in a list of many.

The fact that it would also be an admission of the fact that they _do_ care is what brings them up short.

If Signet notices their pause, she doesn’t say anything. She settles back on her heels and leaves her hand a comforting presence on their shoulder. “Come. Let’s get breakfast.” She pats their shoulder as she pushes herself to her feet. “And next time, you should definitely take a companion for the night. Everyone here is _very_ attentive.”

Echo’s thoughts jumble and collide and the only thing they are certain of in that moment of how hot their face is. "Next time?" they sputter, uncertain. She did imply that she would be back to visit, but Echo isn't too sure how they're supposed to fit into that equation.

"Yes. Unless, of course, you would like the night off next time."

Echo snaps their jaw shut and frowns, but it only draws a laugh from Signet. "Thank you for the offer, Lady Excerpt. Perhaps I will."

There's a sparkle of amusement in her gaze as she watches them push themself back to their feet. Assessing, appraising, then she lowers her lashes demurely as she turns away. "Come. You're back on bodyguard duty." Signet slips her arm back through theirs and leads them out of the hallway. She gives a wave to the gentleman at the desk, who calls a 'welcome back' to her as she passes.

Outside, the morning light is thin and watery, dawn barely breaking the horizon.

Echo stretches their arms over their head and yawns loudly.

"Don't think that is going to get you out of your responsibilities to me today," Signet says lightly. "I gave you the opportunity to relax. It is your own fault that you did not."

"Of course not, Lady Excerpt," Echo replies with mock humility. "I never slack on my duties."

"Clearly."

Signet leads them down a large street that is already bustling with activity. She fills the silence between them with easy small talk, pointing out various landmarks as they go.

Echo takes this information and tucks it aside. "You come here often, don't you?"

She makes an amused noise in the back of her throat, and Echo hurries to correct themself. "I mean that you seem very familiar with the area. And everyone we talked to back at the house knew you."

She doesn't speak right away, content to watch the pedestrians swirling around them. "I did come here fairly often to visit Blooming. It is hard—" She cuts herself off, and the soft smile flickers in place. "It is hard coming here again without her. Even when I wouldn't come to visit Blooming specifically, knowing that she was somewhere always set my heart at ease." Signet lifts a hand, though it hovers in the air above her collarbone—as if remembering that something isn't there.

"Is Thyrsus here to lend aid to Seance?" Echo asks to try and distract her. "You said that we will be in the area for awhile."

"Aid of a sorts, as they mourn the loss of their Excerpt. So I would like to remain close. Oh, I suppose I haven't mentioned it to you, have I?"

"Something I should know?"

"Yes." She turns to look at them, a playful smile at the corners of her lips. "It's almost my birthday."

Echo pulls up short. "What?"

"Well, I say almost. It's another two months or so away, but there is much to be done." Signet gestures with her head down the street. "Even will work with you on the security details. Everything that has been happening with Advent and Empyrean has honestly taken priority, but one doesn't often turn three hundred."

They wheeze, eyes going wide and jaw slack. "No way."

Signet laughs, delighted at their response. "You've already said I look young for my age."

"Yeah, but I didn't think that age was _three hundred_."

"Then I will take that as an extremely good compliment that I look very good."

"You do look great—" Echo tries, then catches themself as Signet grins. "For three hundred."

Signet does a small spin in the middle of the sidewalk, her skirts rippling around her ankles and the loose ends of her hair catching the brightening light. "Thank you." She holds out her hand to them. "Now: Breakfast?"

Echo can't stop staring until someone on the street accidentally bumps into them and they jerk out of their thoughts. They take Signet's hand and let her pull them back to her side before resuming her walk.

* * *

There is a strange sort of ambient chaos through the back offices of Thyrsus when Echo and Signet return.

Echo keeps Elegy's scabbard firmly in their grip, ready to pull it free should they need to. At their side, Signet stands straight-backed and alert.

Bluberri is the first to find them as they come careening down one of the back halls, a mix of indignation and frustration on their delicate features. "Your Ladyship!" they say, bristling when they spot her. "I saw the alert that the transport returned and I hoped it would be you."

"What is the matter?" she asks, stepping forward and extending her hand towards them. "Did something happen? No signal came from Thyrsus."

Her aide makes a frustrated sound, not even pausing in their pace as they take Signet's hand and guide her onward. "No, nothing dramatic. It's only that the Cadent insists that your birthday needs to go perfectly."

Signet sighs loudly, and Bluberri speaks louder to be heard. "She's sent some delegates to start helping with the preparations. I've let Gig be distracted from your absence last night by having him film them, but I don't know how long he's going to let the topic lie." They give her a stern look, which she pretends to ignore. "But there is.... one more thing."

"What, is the Cadent herself here to oversee my work while I decorate?" Signet snorts as they arrive at the door to her office, but Bluberri reaches out and stops her.

"No. Worse."

She furrows her brow, and Bluberri makes a vague sort of head gesture towards the door. Then her eyebrows go up. "What is waiting for me in my office?"

"An _artist_ ," Bluberri hisses, then releases her wrist. "After you, your Ladyship."

Signet spares a moment to cast them a glare before smoothing her expression over and pushing the door open.

A roguishly handsome man sits in one of the chairs, his back to them and his feet kicked up on Signet's desk. He has a sketchpad in his lap and seems to be attempting to recreate the scene before him.

He looks up at the sound of their entrance. "Ah, Your Grace," he says, swinging his legs down and rising to his feet in an extremely unhurried fashion. "I was beginning to wonder if something had happened."

"I appreciate the concern. It is a good thing I had my bodyguard with me," Signet says, a polite smile already painted onto her face as she moves to take her seat. "I had some personal matters to attend to on Seance. I apologize, I did not know that I was to be expecting someone."

The man waves a hand dismissively. "We must have just missed each other. I left Seance yesterday afternoon. Convenient timing, that Thyrsus would arrive when it did. I had been wondering how I was to reach you before your birthday, or if I would have to complete my task through secondary resources."

"And what is your task?"

"Ah, of course: I've been commissioned by the Cadent Under Mirage to construct a statue of you in time for your three hundredth birthday."

Signet doesn't reply. She simply stares at him in open-mouthed shock as she processes his words.

"I'm sorry," Echo cuts in instead. "And who are you?"

"I," the man begins, straightening his posture and holding a hand aloft before dropping into an extravagant bow, "am Grand Magnificent, recently of Memorious, where the Cadent extended this invitation to me, and—"

"No," Signet says, then looks up at Bluberri, who hovers over her left shoulder. "No. Why is he still in my office?"

"Your Ladyship, I've _tried_ —"

"Did you just say _no_ —?"

"What is the Cadent paying you for this?" Signet shakes her head forges on without waiting for an answer. "I'll pay you more and you can work on whatever project you were currently in the middle of when she clearly interrupted your extremely busy schedule to do this ridiculous task."

Bluberri pales and leans in, fingers clutching the edge of her desk. "Your Ladyship you can't just say things like that—"

"Mr Magnificent—" Signet tries, ignoring Bluberri.

Grand makes a sound in the back of his throat and wrinkles his nose. "It's 'Grand Magnificent', if you please. It's a mononym, not a last name."

Echo has to make a conscious effort to swallow down the snort of amusement, and Signet presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her grin.

"Alright, Grand Magnificent. Is there a personal reason why you won't allow yourself to be dissuaded from this project?"

"I know it hasn't escaped your notice what sort of political and public position you're in right now, Your Grace," Grand says, then adds a small bow of his head as her lips thin. "There is a lot hinging on the success of your celebration that goes beyond you having a birthday bash."

Signet breathes in deep, and leans back in her chair. "I am aware."

"To be perfectly candid, I can achieve a lot of personal success as well. It is not merely political and religious movements hanging on the edge of this. I stand to become one of the most famous artists should I complete this task." Grand flips his sketchbook shut and tucks it beneath his arm. "Nothing you offer me can top that."

She closes her eyes and rubs at her temples. "Alright. You can compete with Gig Kephart for my free time. Bluberri, have you introduced our two guests to one another yet?"

Bluberri makes a face that says they have not and clearly do not want to, but they nod their head. "Understood, Your Ladyship. Grand Magnificent, if you would?" They step back and gesture towards the door.

Before he leaves, Grand holds his hand out across the table towards Signet. "I look forward to working with you, Your Grace."

"Likewise," Signet says, and she shakes his hand.

Once the two of them are out of the office, Signet flops ungracefully back in her chair and covers her face with her hands. "If it's not one thing, then it's another," she murmurs.

Echo laughs, and she smacks them playfully in the side. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it will be a very lovely statue of you indeed."

"Why a statue of me instead of any of the fallen Excerpts, I don't know. At least it won't remain in my city once the party is over."

They smirk and are only saved from another smack because she is not looking up at them. "One of you is enough."

"I can't even be mad at you for that." Signet has a brief moment longer with her hands over her face, then she drops them to her desk and lifts her chin back to its normal imperial bearing. "Back to work, I suppose."

Echo takes the seat recently abandoned by Grand and pulls the other chair in closer to rest their legs on. "I'll be here, Lady Excerpt, should you need anything."

Her huff of laughter is accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers, and Echo closes their eyes to let the sound wash over them.

* * *

It is still about two months out until Signet's birthday celebration, but the activity picks up rapidly. Smaller ships and transport pods have been arriving from Seance, and Echo has been warned that they'll be coming in from across Quire as a whole as each of the cities send delegates to honor the Excerpt on her momentous birthday.

Echo trails after Even, observing the unpacking of transports and assisting where needed.

"It's going to be a time where we need to be on the strictest security we can manage," Even says, arms folded over his chest. His bug-like jaw works over a barely contained grumble of frustration, and his wings flutter irritatedly behind him. "Now all of Quire knows where Lady Signet is. And the threat is not limited to Advent, although they might pose the largest."

Echo fusses with their hair, fingering the gold filigree pins keeping it out of their face. "Who else should we be on the lookout for?"

"Politicians." Even practically spits out the word. "Now that she is the last, everyone will be scrambling to get their views for the future into her hands. How the Free States should proceed with only one Divine left. How the cities should prepare. What we can do to salvage any Divine to rebuild, or to ask her for new ones to come down to Quire. I don't fucking know. People will think of anything so that they can force it on her."

They purse their lips, considering this. "No one knows what Lumen and I were trying to steal, right?"

His hair curls in on itself like a hand clenched into a fist. "No official documentation has been released to the Cadent Under Mirage."

"How many other people had been apprehended on missions similar to mine?"

Even considers this. "Tender and Fourteen would have a better idea, as the Beloved move more freely than I can. Yours and Lumen, admittedly, are the only two that the Excerpt had any direct hand in, and our orders did not come directly from the Cadent."

They lift an eyebrow, and push themself away from the wall they are leaning against. "So the Cadent didn't know about me, but the Lady Excerpt did?"

"The Beloved apprehended several that have admitted to being from Advent, or fit the now apparent pattern," he agrees. "Excerpt Signet took a lot of that information and began to apply pressure to connections that she has throughout Quire. Fourteen and Tender did a lot of information gathering, as they also have many access points for such fact finding."

"Why did she decide to take this upon herself? She didn't know what we were after."

Even makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, eyes trained on the movement in the hanger bay. "A hunch, perhaps. Or a warning from Belgard. I don't honestly know."

Echo glances up at Even, studying the man's profile—the set of his jaw, the tilt of his brow. Before they can press the question, he takes a breath.

"She has this way about her, if you haven't already figured it out," he explains. "She never has to explain herself, but she will ask something of you and you will want to do it." He glances down and catches Echo's curious gaze. "You'll honestly be better off asking her about it."

"If she hasn't explained herself to me yet, I don't know if she's going to start," Echo mutters, and folds their arms protectively over their chest. "It's been over two months since I've become her bodyguard and I.... There's a lot of questions that I have. And why she trusts me is one of them."

Even huffs out a laugh and one of his hair tendrils reaches over to nudge Echo's shoulder fondly. "I’ve said it before: Excerpt Signet is a great judge in character."

Echo considers this, letting their arms drop back to their sides as boxes of items get loaded onto dollies and crew of both Thyrsus and Seance start to move them to their next location. "And what of your opinion? When you first arrested me, what did you think of me then?"

He takes his time before replying, to the point where he starts to walk away from the spot the two of them were using to observe the bay. Echo has to hurry after as he starts to explain himself. "We were staked out around the Archival Hall for about a day before you broke in, and you managed to elude the traps that we had set up."

They remember the small alarm system they dismantled, but nothing else beyond that. They decide not to mention that to Even, wondering what it said about their possible inattention, or Even's inability to set traps.

"We were alerted of your identity when you tripped one of the cameras. Already I was fairly impressed with your skills though I suppose it was more one of those grudging admiration, considering the circumstances." Even shakes his head as he walks, a bemused smile in place. "You nearly made it out of the city. If it was not for Lady Signet breaking formation, you would have gotten away."

Echo looks down at their feet, the polished boots flicking in and out of view from around their embroidered coat. So much has changed because of that moment. If they had gotten out of the city like they were supposed to, they would be wearing white, instead of black and gold. They would be at Ballad's right hand instead of Signet's.

The thought makes the world tilt around them, and it's all they can do to stay steady on their feet. "It was such a small thing."

"It was. You ask how Lady Signet can trust you: How can you trust Lady Signet, knowing that such a small action of hers led your entire future to shift?"

Echo starts to answer, but then holds back and thinks of their choice of words. "I think... The thing is... This is where I'm supposed to be. Here, with the Excerpt, you, and Tender and Fourteen. Being back on Advent was..." They take a breath, weighing the moment before pushing on. "I was another cog in a huge wheel at Advent. One face in many. Here... The Excerpt makes me feel like I belong. And maybe that's because she took a special interest in me for whatever reason and asked me to be her bodyguard, but at the same time, I know that when she looks at me—when _any_ of you look at me—you're seeing _me_. Not just another face. But someone deserving of your attention."

They think about Signet's words from the week before, as they stood inside _The Gilded Butterfly_ and she asked them about why they thought so little of themself. Until that point, Echo was focused on doing the best job that they could, knowing that they were one in a line of many.

Now, they are aware of their actions and their choices, and they can feel the weight of the others' attention on them.

They no longer have to prove they're just as good or just as competent as their brother.

They only have to prove that they are the best version of themself.

Even nods in understanding. "I'm glad to hear it."

Echo narrows their eyes and shoots Even a quick look, allowing a smirk to make its way onto their face. "Were you checking to make sure I wouldn't ruin the party?"

He laughs and this time, knocks Echo playfully with an elbow. "I won't deny that it was a little bit on my mind, but I think that about everyone. It's my job to ensure the safety of this place runs smoothly. It's _your_ job to ensure that the Excerpt is safe, should anything get past my defenses." His expression sobers, and he places a heavy hand on their shoulder. "I don't doubt for a minute that Advent will try something during her celebration. Any newcomer onto the ship is someone that we must keep an eye on, and security sweeps are going to become a regular thing. I am going to rely on you and Lumen as our former-Advent members to let us know if anything jumps out at you, understand? No matter how small the detail, we will look into it."

They give a small salute. "Yes, Sir."

Even studies them a moment longer before his expression softens. "Good. Now get going. I'm sure you have something better to do than to stand around and listen to me grumble."

"Not really, but if you're offering, I'll take the escape." They give another salute, dodge a swipe from a hair tendril, and make their way out of the hanger bay.

Once in the halls, safely out of view from Even, they let out a heavy breath and scrub their hands over their face.

Like Even, there is no doubt in their mind that Ballad will use the celebration as a chance to make a statement.

So they have until then to be able to try and work out what his plan might be so they can better prepare everyone else.


	11. Chapter 11

Echo's schedule shifts dramatically when the set up for the celebration gets into full swing. The halls are crowded with people from both cities, traveling through the back corridors as they bring in decorations.

Sure enough, Thyrsus remains rooted close to Seance, where it settled two weeks prior and they took the trip to visit Empyrean's corpse. The remains of the Divine lurk just on the edge of the horizon, a grim reminder despite the frantic party atmosphere. The only change is that Signet requested that her city be turned in such a way that the citizens could not see Empyrean, but the windows of her private apartments had the best view.

The consequence of her decision.

 _She broke formation, and that was the only way we were able to catch you,_ Even said.

 _I had to make a choice, and I chose the bigger picture,_ Signet said. _I didn't stop you in time. I failed twice, and that is the choice that I made._

Echo still tries to go on their runs in the morning, but they find that too often they're having to stop and give directions to people, or to check paperwork for incoming guests, or are simply unable to keep a decent pace. Breakfast is also crowded, with more of Even's soldiers on shift at a time than there used to be.

Lumen looks harried, but not too concerned. Echo doesn't get the chance to talk to them often, but it is good to know that they are around and doing well.

Signet has her attention pulled aside constantly by several people. Dignitaries from the Cadent helping her work on her schedule of events, for visiting the cities, for visiting the sites of the other fallen Divines. By now, they have heard of what she did at Empyrean, and the Cadent insists that it will be good for morale in the Free States if they see her visiting the others. Even if they are nothing but picked over corpses, months, years, decades gone.

Gig absolutely _loves_ it, following Signet and her attendant crowd with his camera up and filming as much of it as he can. He asks question after question from everyone, recording it all down either on his camera or in his notebook. Bluberri has stopped trying to review everything, because there is too much new content coming through.

Because of this, Echo spends less time at Signet's side. It is the easiest way to avoid being caught on Gig's documentary, and especially to avoid all the church heads and politicians that flock to her. Fewer questions asked.

Instead, they volunteer their time with Even and the other guards.

Instead, they watch her from a distance, and marvel at the grace that she handles every obstacle thrown in her way. Instead, they marvel at the comfortable ease that she smiles when she catches their gaze from across the room.

They focus on work instead of on the way that their pulse stutters each time.

* * *

"How am I supposed to do my job if I can't get near her?" Echo grumbles, arms folded across the bar.

Tender hums, amused, as she bustles around to prepare drinks for the other guests. "You could always get over your fear of being on camera."

"What? No. That's not it. Well, it's sort of it," they amend when they catch Tender's smirk. "I don't like him making a spectacle of it all. I don't want him to make a spectacle of _me_."

"What makes you think he would do that? He's cool if you get to know him."

"I do know him. And I'm not saying that he's _not_ cool." Echo runs a hand back through their hair, fussing with the long strands until Tender hands them a decorative hair stick. They let out a sigh and use it to fasten up their hair. "Thank you. It's just that I can't help but feel a little nervous around him all the time. We hang out when he doesn't have the camera, but I dunno... It's weird."

She lets her tail swish back and forth in idle curiosity, but her ears are alert as another group enters _The Steady_. "Are you afraid of news getting back to your family or something? You still haven't reached out to them yet, have you?"

Echo snorts and tosses one hand in the air. "What am I supposed to say? Mom, Dad, sorry I ran away. I was a shitty kid, and I fell in with some people who... Promised me power and money? I guess? And then I got arrested _again_ , but by the Beloved this time. And now I work for the Excerpt."

"Alright, that might be a bit of a concerning letter to write. But why not try to explain the truth to them?" Tender rolls her eyes and sighs when Echo does the same. "Do you miss them?"

They hesitate, thinking about their home on Perigean and the school, their little sister and their parents.

Of Ballad, who left when Echo was still young and just starting to get into trouble. Who left to sign up with Advent, and how worried their parents were when they found out.

Would they have wanted Echo to go back to Advent—because of Ballad, because they thought it was stable? Their parents were not terribly religious, though they kept a small figure of Harmony in a family shrine and still burned incense for the lost Excerpt Will. They did not have much of an opinion on the Free States, but they definitely thought that the Cadent and her Excerpts were on the way out.

A solid future was not with the Cadent Under Mirage. She inherited a crumbling society, and while that's not entirely her fault, the fight is not worth it.

And yet, here Echo is, working as the last surviving Excerpt's bodyguard.

Echo exhales through their nose, closing their eyes and slumping forward to rest their forehead on their folded arms. "I do," they say softly. "But it's not enough to make up for everything."

A clack of glass on wood breaks the stillness of their personal little bubble, and they look up to see a glass of murky purplish liquid. "Jelly juice," Tender says with a wink. "On the house."

"I don't know if you've ever made me pay for a drink," Echo laughs, as they reach into their coat and pull out their wallet anyway. "So you should just stop saying that and I can stop leaving very large tips and let me pay for things like normal."

Tender bats her eyelashes as Echo stashes the bills into her decorative tip jar. "Cash tips go straight into my pocket, while the money in my till goes into everything else. I rather like the extra little bit you give."

Echo smiles despite themself as they pull the glass closer. A year ago they never would have been in a position where they could do this. They stole most of what they needed, bartered for others, but rarely had a steady job.

"Thanks for listening," they say after taking a tentative sip of the juice. It tastes as delicious as it always does, but the look of it never fails to throw them off.

"I don't mind." Tender grins and her tail dances eagerly. "I like listening to you talk about Signet."

Echo sits upright, hoping that the blush isn't strong enough to be visible. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What?" she asks innocently. "People complain about their boss and coworkers a lot, even if they don't realize it." There's a light in her eyes as she leans in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Unless there is something else you're thinking about."

"No," Echo says quickly—too quickly, perhaps, because Tender's grin shifts into something like a very pleased cat. "There's not."

She shrugs and steps back, giving them space, but her expression says she has clearly not dropped the topic. "Alright. But just know that I'm always here if you need to get something off your chest." Tender winks and Echo wonders if she knows something that they're not even aware of.

* * *

Echo always gets a small thrill of excitement when they stride down the hall in their gold embroidered black coat, Elegy strapped to their back, hair done up with delicate filigree pins. People tend to stop and watch them pass. They hear whispers following in their wake, people wondering who they are—people wondering who could be the Excerpt's personal bodyguard.

They say some very not nice things as well, but Echo ignores them and carries on. The people talking don't know who they are, so it is only speculation. Nothing they've heard makes them suspicious that anyone might be sent from Advent.

Three weeks since Empyrean, Echo almost stumbles into a conversation that they clearly should not be a part of.

Even and Fourteen huddle close together, speaking in low voices in one of the back routes on the underside of the city. It's rarely used, but it is one of the fastest ways that Echo likes to take on their rounds from the hangar bay to the hall that is being set up for Signet's birthday.

"We still can't find a body," Fourteen says, distress heavy in their tone.

"Do you think..." Even starts, but then cuts himself off. "No, that's too cruel to even suggest."

Fourteen shakes their head and passes a hand over their weary face. "I don't believe that they have kept her alive. It's been nearly three months. We would have heard something if..." They trail off, and there's several moments of silence between the two of them.

Finally, Even squares his shoulders. "I need more information about what they plan to do during Signet's birthday." He speaks in a frantic voice, reaching out and putting a hand on Fourteen's shoulder. Normally, when talking about the Excerpt, Even uses her title. This is the first time they've ever heard him refer to her in such a private way.

"I know," Fourteen agrees. "I'm trying."

"You can't keep looking up information on Excerpt Blooming."

"But—"

"No, Fourteen. That can come after. We are running out of time, and I can't..." Even's voice catches, and when Echo sneaks a glance, he's standing with his face in his hands. "I don't want to go through that again."

"I know," Fourteen repeats, ducking their head as well. "I'll try a new disguise this time. But the closest outpost is still very far away, and I haven't found any activity in Seance. I don't want to go too far, or I'm afraid I won't make it back in time for her party." There's a beat, then they say, "Have you tried talking to Lumen...?"

Even's head jerks side to side in a frustrated shake. "I'm not going to ask them to open themself up to the Current if they don't want to. "

"Even, this could be a matter of life or death—"

"It's on Signet's orders!"

Fourteen snaps their mouth shut, pauses, then sighs. "She would say that, wouldn't she?"

Even snorts out a laugh and sighs as well. "Typical of her, huh?"

Echo pulls away from the corner when they hear a soft shuffle of footsteps from further down the hall. Heart pounding in their chest, they shift their posture into a defensive stance and tread back the way they came.

Lumen yelps when they almost run into each other, and Echo grabs their arm to quickly pull them down a side room. "Echo! Oh thank the Tides, I was starting to think I was getting lost." They release a rush of breath, hand pressed to their chest.

"What were you doing down here?" Echo asks, hating the way that their voice sounds accusatory when they were the one that was just eavesdropping.

"I'm looking for Captain Gardner. There's been a mixup with some of the dollies and now some of the people are arguing. They don't want to listen to the guard assigned to them,so..." Lumen shifts nervously from foot to foot. "Have you seen him?"

"I... haven't...." Echo starts, hesitantly.

Lumen frowns slightly, then jerks into an upright posture and fumbles out a salute. "Fourteen Fifteen!"

Echo jumps, whirling around to see the stern-faced figure approaching from behind them. "I didn't hear you coming."

"That was sort of the point," they say, bemused. "Echo. Lumen. If you're looking for Captain Gardner, he's on his way to Excerpt Signet's office."

The three of them hesitate awkwardly in the middle of the hall, neither one willing to be the first to move.

Finally, Lumen takes a breath and fidgets awkwardly beneath the attention. "Well. Yes. Okay. Echo, can you show me the way? I still haven't figured these all out."

"Yeah," Echo says, shaking their head to clear their thoughts. "I can." They start to lead the way, but before they can get too far, Fourteen's hand snaps out and catches onto their wrist.

"Actually," Fourteen says, "a moment of your time? Both of you, if it's not a problem."

Lumen looks in the direction they were headed, but nods and moves back to stand alongside Echo. "Is there something we can help you with?"

Fourteen glances down and shuffles their feet, and Echo isn't sure they've ever seen Fourteen look so nervous before. "Perhaps. It's about... Well, it's about Advent. And your history with them."

Echo's stomach drops and a chill creeps down their spine. They exchange a quick look with Lumen, and know that they share the same feeling. "Why?"

"I'm trying to get any sort of information. Do either of you know safe-houses the organization might use, or locations of bases. Anything." Fourteen does a remarkable job of not looking at Lumen, though Echo wonders how much they want to ask that question.

"I've already told Captain Gardner and the Lady Excerpt everything I know," Echo confesses, wishing that they had more to give. "They're not exactly the most stealthy sort of group, but they cover a lot of ground. You could probably throw a rock and hit something that's owned or managed by Advent."

"I've pursued a lot of those avenues already. The good news is that they don't have a lot of direct contact with the main hub, so it was easy to ensure that they will not interfere with our proceedings." Fourteen speaks with a cold surety that sends another chill down Echo's spine. "But thank you. I will keep looking."

Fourteen starts to turn away when Lumen speaks up.

"Ballad has tried to reach out to me."

Echo's head whips in their direction, a million different emotions fighting for control and in the end it's a mixture of defeat and alarm. "He's what?"

"I didn't answer," Lumen explains, giving Echo a pleading look. Asking for forgiveness. "I could just feel him testing the connection, as if ensuring it was still there, that I was still alive, or something."

Echo feels those words like a punch to their gut, and it's a struggle to remember to breathe. "Oh."

Maybe Ballad would have tried, had they the means. They think of the flame pin on their lapel, and for a brief, wild second, wonder if they couldn't push it's abilities backwards, to connect to the Mirage through it. To reach out to Ballad.

Not that he would know who it was coming from. _Little Flame_ is Signet's nickname for them.

Ballad always called them _Little Tiger_.

Struggling to keep their expression as level as possible, Echo swallows down their emotions. "How long ago was this?"

Lumen shakes their head. "I can't really remember. Maybe two weeks?"

"So after our arrival at Seance became public knowledge," Fourteen muses, a hand to their chin. There's a beat longer as they think through a plan. "Lumen, I wonder, would you be able to help me with something?"

"Of course," Lumen says quickly, eager. "I'm willing to help in any way I can."

Fourteen glances at Echo, before allowing their attention to settle on Lumen. "Would you accompany me on my next mission out to investigate Advent? I'm trying to find out if there are any sort of whispers to their activities within the next few months. So that the other members of the Beloved and I can put a stop of them."

"Is this with or without the Excerpt's knowledge of said activities?" Echo asks despite themself.

"Without. I do not want her leaving Thyrsus any more than she has to, and even then her trips into Seance should be limited to locations that we have determined are safe."

Echo wonders if Fourteen knows about her trip to _The Gilded Butterfly_ , and if that is considered a safe location. "I will accompany her on any personal trips she makes through Thyrsus and Seance."

Fourteen nods, once. "Good. Please make sure she does not catch onto this plan. Captain Gardner and I have been trying to keep this from her as much as possible. Tender is also staying behind to make it look a lot less obvious that we are up to something."

Lumen furrows their brow and considers Fourteen. "How does you being gone not make her suspicious?"

A look passes over Fourteen's face, like a shutter going down over a section they do not wish to cross. "She knows of my past, and the job that I had before I officially moved to Thrysus. She knows that it is still something I do from time to time."

Echo remembers what Fourteen said back when they first became Signet's bodyguard. The clinical way they said, _I kill people_.

They reach out and put a hand on Lumen's shoulder before they can press the subject. "We understand."

Still frowning in confusion, Lumen nods in agreement. "I'll be happy to help, Fourteen. I will just need to tell Captain Gardner, but I will be ready when we need to go."

"I'm glad." Fourteen gives an unsteady smile that quickly falls. "We will have to travel quickly, but I anticipate that we will be back in time for the celebration. Lumen, I'll meet you in the hangar bay in two hours."

"Understood," Lumen says and offers another salute.

Echo nods in parting to Fourteen and puts a hand on Lumen's shoulder to guide them forward.

Once they are certain that Fourteen is out of hearing range, Echo makes a small sound and covers their face with their hand.

"Are you alright?" Lumen pulls Echo to a stop. "I'm sorry, is it about what I said...?"

They can't respond right away, the words unable to form. The tension in their shoulders wraps around to their ribs, hugging tighter until suddenly Lumen is crouching in front of them, a hand shaking their shoulder.

"Echo!" they hiss, looking around over their shoulder before turning back to Echo. "Echo, hey, you okay?"

"I don't—" Echo tries, then shakes their head when the words still refuse to come. "I miss him." The admission forces its way out of their mouth, pulling something free and they gasp in a lungful of air. "What if he thinks that I'm dead, Lumen? That he sent me on this dumb fucking mission and I died?"

Lumen ducks their head, rubbing their mouth with their free hand—the other gripping Echo's shoulder. "Let me tell him."

"No—"

"Echo, this is going to drive you crazy if Ballad thinks that you're dead. He didn't say anything after you disappeared, and we all said that you would be okay but..." They suck in a breath between their teeth. "Even I will admit that what we didn't say was that we thought the worst. Let me just tell him that _we're okay_."

Echo starts shaking their head before Lumen can even finish. "It will be easier if he doesn't know."

"You only said that before because we both thought that he wasn't going to reach out to me."

"And I'm going to keep saying that because it's the truth. So he knows that I'm alive? What good will that do?"

"He'll know that he didn't send his sibling into danger to die—"

"Then what? He'll stage a rescue attempt, knowing that I'm alive?" Echo reaches out to grasp Lumen's shoulder in return, using it to push themself to their feet. "And what if he doesn’t do anything, even after knowing? It’s easier this way. And I like it here, Lumen. I don't want to go back to Advent. The Excerpt, she..."

Lumen heaves a heavy breath and rises to their feet as well. "Yeah. I know. I feel the same way. I don't have to prove myself like I did in Advent." They step forward until they can pull Echo into a hug. "If you change your mind, let me know."

They return the embrace, using the opportunity to steady their breathing before pulling back. "I won't, but thanks."

Lumen laughs, and the sound breaks in such a way that Echo feels their center shift to match the cadence.


	12. Chapter 12

"Your Grace, please pay attention." Grand Magnificent's voice carries across the courtyard to where Echo and a few of the other soldiers run drills.

"Pay attention to _what_?" comes Signet's exasperated response.

"I don't know. Pick a point and stare at it."

"You've got to be kidding me—"

"Peer off in the direction of that tree," Gig supplies. "It'll look great on camera, and I can get you and Grand both in the shot."

Signet's sigh is very loud and very staged.

Grand's grumbling is also very loud. "I agreed to let you sit outside while I sketch on the condition that you would actually _let me sketch you_."

"I am—"

"You keep fidgeting and looking away!"

"Would it help if I stand up on this bench and you can look at me while I ask you some questions?"

Echo waves their hand to dismiss the soldiers and crosses the courtyard to watch the development.

Sure enough, when they arrive, Gig is standing up on one of the stone benches and Signet frowns up at him.

"The sun is behind you," she says, lifting a hand to cover her eyes.

"It looks great in the shot."

Grand tosses his hands in the air in frustration. "This isn't working."

Echo moves to lean against Gig's hip, flashing an easy smile as Signet's shoulders slump in relief. "Sounds like things are going well over here. What have I missed?"

"Oh, good, this is perfect." Gig moves without warning, and Echo stumbles at the sudden lack of a post to lean on. "Echo stand right there, and Signet, you can look at them."

"A much easier request," Signet teases, her gaze focusing on Echo. "That is, if they don't mind having to stand still like a tree."

"I do, actually. Not too fond of that idea." Echo glances to Grand, who frowns down at his sketchpad as he works. "Counter request: would you all mind if I borrow the Excerpt?"

"I'd mind _terribly_ ," Grand says, head snapping up to shift his glare to Echo. "I'm running out of time and I don't have a lot of good ideas."

Signet rolls her eyes. "It's going to be a statue of me standing there, how many ideas do you need?"

Grand sniffs disapprovingly. "It's not a question of what you're going to be doing. I need to be able to capture your _essence_ in the stone. I need people to look at it and feel as if they _know_ you when they look into your eyes!" He makes a dramatic hand gesture and sends his pencil flying in the process. "Oh for fuck's sake..."

"We've been sitting here for an hour, Grand. I have work that needs to be done. If you want to capture my 'essence', then maybe you can bottle it after I die from stress." Signet pushes herself to her feet, causing both Grand and Gig to cry out in protest at the ruined tableau.

Signet crosses the small space to Echo, and they hold out their hand for her without even thinking. Her smile is small and private as she takes it, stepping in next to them and ignoring the demands that she sit back down. "Have you come to rescue me, my knight?"

"If the two being dramatic over there can spare you for a few minutes. Even for a _tiny_ break."

Grand sighs loudly, finally getting up to fetch the pencil he flung. "If you can get her to relax, I will allow it."

Signet smothers a laugh as Echo sketches a bow in his direction. "You're too kind, Grand." Using their grip on her hand, Echo leads Signet away a few paces. "I couldn't help but overhear some of the commotion. I figured maybe it would be a a good idea to come and get you."

"Thank you." Signet slips her arm more securely through Echo's. "And how did you plan on helping me relax?"

"I admit I haven't thought that far ahead. I know your usual preference is a little impossible right now..."

She sighs and casts them a quick, coy glance from beneath lowered lashes. "A shame."

Echo stutters despite themself and looks away. They come across some of the abandoned training equipment in the courtyard, and jerk a thumb over at it. "We can spar, I guess," they say, half-jokingly.

But before they can think of another suggestion, or even follow up that statement with a sarcastic quip, Signet's eyes light up and she taps a finger to her lip. "Actually, I would love that."

"Oh?" Echo blinks, uncertain. "Against me?"

"I promise I'll go easy on you." Signet steps away from their grip, reaching back to tie up her hair. She smirks at them from beneath her arm, and shrugs off her outer coat, tossing it next to where Echo's already lays abandoned.

Echo hesitates, distantly aware of Grand and Gig following after them. But then Signet beckons, challenge written over every line of her face, and they decide _why the fuck not_.

"Try not to beat me up too badly," Echo says as they stand across from her.

"Please don't be mad at me if I do," Signet returns, and then makes the first move.

She starts to step in, and Echo makes to grab her shoulder, but she immediately ducks out of the way and gets inside their guard with a simple shift and twist.

They lean back, avoiding the jab of her elbow, managing to keep their footing as they pivot. She's not fast enough on the withdraw, so Echo catches her on her upper arm and ribs, planting their foot into the stone and pushing her around in a half circle to the other side of the courtyard.

Signet goes with the momentum and reaches for their hand that is against the side of her rib cage before they can pull back. She lifts their hand and twists under it, causing their arms to crisscross, then gives them a firm tug.

This time, they can't keep their footing, and they stumble forward. Their balance is off and they start to pitch forward. But their brain catches up with the moment, and they plant their palms on the stone, turning the tumble into a somersault.

Echo comes up on one knee and turns, catching Signet's leg a she swings it at their shoulder. They rise back to their feet, still gripping her ankle, and force her away as they go.

She bends backwards as they lift her foot, and she plants it against their chest to use them as a springboard to propel herself in a back flip.

It goes on like this for a few minutes—a smooth back and forth between the two of them, the moves flowing together like a dance. It's easy with Signet, both of them able to anticipate the other's motions in a way that Echo has only seen Tender and Fourteen do.

Signet's smile doesn't leave her face, though it shifts from challenging to amused, delighted to determined, through the course of the bouts. And while they don't get more violent, they become less cautious of the contact. Each of them land several hits, though the punches are pulled and they try to strike areas that aren't too delicate.

In the end, it's Echo's own fault that she gets the better of them.

They come in close, elbow driving to her shoulder as they move their leg between hers to trip her.

It catches her off guard, and a soft gasp leaves her as they dip her backwards with the blow.

Something shifts in their brain, and Echo uses their free hand to catch her around the waist, holding her up before she could hit the ground.

Signet's expression shifts from surprised to delighted, and she laughs. She reaches up, grabs their elbow that hit her shoulder, and before they can realize what she's doing, Signet uses their own weight against them.

She tugs their elbow further down, and ducks to hook her shoulder into the center of their ribs. With a strained shout, she manages to flip Echo over her, though the sound quickly turns into a yelp as Echo fails to release their grip and tugs her down with them.

The wind gets knocked out of them as they hit the ground and Signet lands across their chest, but she starts laughing before they can even regain their breath.

Applause fills the courtyard, and Echo cranes their head back to see an upside down Gig sitting on the edge of a bench and clapping. Grand’s nose buried in his sketchbook and he doesn't seem to notice the activity around him.

Gig whistles. "Yeah!! That was great!"

Echo sighs and lets themself collapse back onto the stone.

Signet pushes herself upright, earning a grunt from Echo as she uses their stomach without realizing it. "Thank you for that," she gasps, brushing her hair out of her face. "I haven't gotten to do that in a long time."

"Any time," Echo wheezes in reply, overemphasizing the strain in their voice.

It gets them another giggle and a brilliant smile, so the antics are worth it.

Slowly, the two of them get to their feet. Echo dusts off their shirt and Signet pulls her hair out of its up-do to shake the stands loose.

She gives a content little sigh as she goes to sit next to Grand on the bench. "Much better."

"Considerably better," Grand agrees, finally looking up. "Thank you, that will be all for today." He slams his sketchbook shut, earning a startled look from the other three, but offers no further explanation as he gets up and leaves.

Gig watches him go, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. "What's that guy's deal anyway. I thought you guys were amazing."

Signet aims a private smile in Echo's direction as she dons her coat. "I think he simply found what he was looking for. Thank you again for coming to my rescue, Echo."

"My pleasure, Lady Excerpt." They duck their head, and glance over to find her smiling fondly.

They know that the color in her cheeks is from the strenuous exercise, but they still have a hard time tearing their gaze from her.

Signet is the first to look away, ducking her head for a moment to regain her composure. “Now that it looks like I am free, Echo, would you mind escorting me back to my office? I’m afraid if anyone spots me on my own, then they’ll demand more of my time than I have to give.”

Gig perks up at this. “I’ll pack up my stuff and—”

“I’m sorry, Gig, but no more filming for the moment.” Signet gives an apologetic smile as he deflates. “I’ve had quite enough of being the center of attention for one day.”

“You’re the Excerpt, you’re never _not_ the center of attention,” Gig protests, but he holds up his hands in defeat. He claps Echo on the shoulder and winks. “I’ll work on reviewing the recent footage. Thanks for the help today, buddy!”

Echo resists the urge to frown as they shake out their coat. “I didn’t do anything.”

He just grins and flashes a thumbs up before picking up his camera and turning away.

Signet touches them briefly on the forearm, but doesn’t quite meet their gaze when they turn to look at her. “Ready?”

“Yeah. I’ll fight off the fawning masses if they get too close.” Echo drapes their coat over their arm and rolls their shoulders to stretch. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have very knobby elbows?”

Her eyes sweep over them before finally rising to their face, and her lips press together in a barely contained smile. “No one would dare to tell the Excerpt that her elbows are knobby.”

“Then I’ll be the first. I’m sorry, Lady Excerpt.” They make a muffled yelp as she nudges them in the side. “Another bruise!”

“At least the ones you gave me will be easier to hide than the usual fare,” she teases back, and Echo’s gaze immediately drops to her neck before they turn away. “We won’t have to explain to Even that you tried to beat up the Excerpt.”

Echo gasps and presses a hand to their chest in mock offense. “I would never!”

"Of course not. I only expect the best from you, and you've done nothing but deliver." Signet slips her arm easily through theirs as they lead her into the closed off hallways in the back end of Thyrsus.

The walk is comfortable and familiar, even in its silence. No one accosts them on the way, and Signet's pace has a slight bounce to it.

Echo opens the door to her office, and lets her inside before closing it behind them. The place is a whirlwind of papers and charts, maps and invitations scattered about her desk, heavy seals and wax sticks that she uses to address her letters, the bottle of dark blue ink nearly empty where it sits alongside her blotter.

They take this all in as she moves around to her chair. "Lady Excerpt, a question."

She doesn't look up from where she runs her fingers over a series of envelopes. "Yes?"

"Do you enjoy what you do?"

Startled, Signet pauses and lifts her head to return their stare. "Of course," she says honestly. "I cannot imagine what I would be doing otherwise."

"Are you saying that because you've been the Excerpt for... I don't even know how long and you're already three hundred?"

A soft laugh leaves her. "I've done many things during my time as an Excerpt. Belgard does not keep me beholden to her, though I have duties to the Divine church under the Cadent, and I have duties to my people as their leader. But I've lived... a long time. And I have seen many things, experienced many things." Her finger traces over the heavy bronze pen holder on her desk. "It is not a job I would recommend to anyone. Divines of old... they used to wear down their partners. And sometimes, the stress still holds strong. They are otherworldly beings, descended from star stuff. We are not meant to know the mind of such things for long..."

"But you have?"

Her smile is fond, distant, as she speaks. "Any great partnership comes with understanding and communication. Belgard is kind to me, and I treasure her greatly. I would not be the woman I am without her." Something darkens in her expression as she turns to look out the window—at Empyrean's distant corpse.

Echo recalls the conversation they overheard between Even and Fourteen, and wonders if the implication was that something had happened to Signet before. They take a step forward before they can stop themself, drawing Signet's attention back to them. "Do you think it is safe to keep Belgard so far from you? What if something happens to her?"

Signet's expression struggles to stay soft, and Echo immediately regrets their choice of words. "She has asked for me to stay where I am needed, and right now, that is with my people. That is with Excerpt Blooming's people, to help them through this time. If Advent chooses to go after her, she would want to know that I am safe. If they come for me, then I will know that she will be safe."

"Is there any way she could go back to the stars or something?"

"She would not leave me," Signet says, and again, that darkness returns to her expression as she drops down into her chair. "Believe me, I have asked."

Echo hesitates before moving to sit down in the chair across from her. "And Advent will try something on your birthday."

"I don't think they will make a decisive strike, but I think they are likely to attempt something." She folds her fingers together and rests her chin on the back of them. "Echo, I know people must have asked you this many times, but I need to know: What do you think they are capable of?"

They blink as they mull over the question. A lot of what they had said before had been information that anyone within the organization would know. But not everyone has their level of personal relationship with Advent. So they take a deep breath and start to explain.

"The man I mentioned before—Ballad. He's risen quickly through the ranks of the Advent Society as a whole. Two years ago, three years, maybe, I wouldn't have said that they would have been brave or coordinated enough to make such a strike." Echo closes their eyes and works their hands back through their hair, gripping the roots and giving them a tug. "I think with his display during the attack on Empyrean, he's proven himself extremely capable in their eyes."

"Do you know anything about their attack on Empyrean?"

Echo had not been given the choice to even go on that mission. Ballad said that the task they were given was far more important to Advent’s cause.

 _Unbalance the States and their power structure_ , Ballad said, his hand heavy on Echo's shoulder. _Killing a Divine is only the red herring. You, Little Tiger, will steal their secrets._

"I've had months to think about an answer, Lady Excerpt, and all I can say is this: I don't even think Ballad considered what he was doing a monumental task. That is how little you should underestimate him."

Signet is silent for a beat. "You speak like you know this man. You've said you weren't with Advent for long."

Their stomach drops and they have to scramble to cover their own personal bias. "He's from the Tides also. Ballad, Lumen, and I. A few others. Life on the Tides was... well, it was shit, for a lot of us. I'm a special case because I don't have the Mirage like everyone else, and I let that eat away at me for a long time. But Ballad, he..."

Echo lowers their gaze to study their hands. The callouses haven't quite worn smooth, but they're not as pronounced as they used to be. Day after day of using their hands to defend themself, or training at their family's school, and now they're used to help others—to be prepared to defend another.

Their fingers curl into a loose fist. "He's charismatic, and a lot of us followed him when he said that we would have a place in Advent. He spoke a lot about how the Cadent and her Excerpts weren't lifting a finger to help us, but Advent had ways to ensure our families were fed, and that they would look after us. And when we heard those words from Ballad, we believed them."

"Echo?"

They glance up at the sound of their name to find Signet with her hands folded on her desk. Tension courses through her limbs, and she holds their gaze steady. "Yes, Lady Excerpt?"

"Tell me honestly: What did you wish for us to do when you were angry?"

A sound leaks out of their mouth, despite the way that every inch of them freezes. They try to remember what they had even wanted, and the list becomes too large to find the beginning of. "I wanted... you to do _anything_ ," they confess, shoulders heaving in a helpless shrug. "I wanted you to care, to _show_ that you cared. It was a world new to my grandparents but… my parents, me—we were born into it. We've always been resourceful, so we figured it out. Quickly, on our own, with no help from anyone. And that fucking _sucked_ , but the pride of the Tidal people..."

They laugh, pressing the heel of their hand to their forehead. "I wanted someone to tell me that I wasn't alone. Despite the fact that there are others like me who can't connect with the Mirage, we're still shunted to the side. And the numbers among the Tidal people has increased after Harmony died, and no one explained to us that that was okay. That _we're_ okay, that we don't have to rely on the Mirage or the Current for everything.”

Echo’s hands hover uncertainly in the air, wanting to make broad gestures but lacking the motivation. “Most people don't even use their connection to the Mirage, you know? They just know that they have it, that they _could_ use it, and that's what makes them feel superior. Because that gives them this special connection to the Divines, and their Excerpts. You perpetuate that by just existing and I hated you for it."

Silence falls over the room, with their admission hanging heavy in the air between them.

Slowly, Signet nods in understanding. "I see. Thank you for your honesty. I don't get to hear the voices of those who the system does not benefit. That number only grows by the day, and now I am but a single person. I'm glad that you could speak so freely. You have given me much to think about."

Echo hunches their shoulders up to their ears, suddenly shy after their outburst. "I don't think that way anymore."

She lets out a soft huff of breath and shakes her head. "You are perfectly within your right to do so. They are all very true things, and I don't want you to make excuses for the way you feel. It is the job of the people to hold those in power accountable for the promises they make, and we've been unable to deliver on many of those. Too much fear has kept us closed off."

"And now you are the last."

"And now I am the last." She says this with a heavy finality that Echo feels in their bones. "I intend for that to be the truth, no matter what the others wish of me."

Echo tilts their head to the side, curious, but Signet only gives them a secretive smile.

"I will tell you in due time, but there are still many things I need to consider before I voice my plans. You will be the first to know, Little Flame."

They flush, and nod. "Thank you for listening, Lady Excerpt."

Some of the tension eases from her shoulders and she leans back in her chair. "I value your thoughts and opinions, Echo. I know that I'm not the easiest person to work for, but I truly enjoy our conversations. I hope that you know that you can always be open with me."

They push themself up to their feet, plucking up their coat from where it is draped over the arm of the chair. "It's a slow process for me, but I'm learning."

"At your own pace. You're free to take the rest of the day off. One of us should at least have a little free time around here."

Echo shrugs their coat back on, running the tips of their fingers over the pin as they fix their lapels. "Call on me if you need another distraction."

Amusement dances across her face, and they know that their blush deepens at the apparent implication in their words. "I'll keep that in mind."

They hover there a moment, debating if they want to challenge her grin, but instead they nod again and step out of Signet's office.

In the hallway, the door shut securely behind them, Echo places the back of their hand to their cheek, then against their chest.

"Huh..." they murmur, wondering just when they became so susceptible to Signet's teasing.


	13. Chapter 13

Echo knows they shouldn't be sulking, but they can't help it.

When they said that they would keep an eye on the Excerpt and go with her on her personal excursions, they knew what it entailed.

And as much as they enjoyed the sparring match against her, her preferred method of relaxation is of a more social nature.

That’s how they find themself in the lounge of _The Gilded Butterfly_ once again. They've abandoned their uniform coat for their own personal jacket, matching Signet's more 'casual' attire for the trip into Seance.

Signet sits across the lounge in a private booth with Polyphony, the two of them leaning close to one another as they talk. Every inch of her looks more at ease sitting there next to Polyphony, who rests a casual hand on Signet's thigh.

Echo knows that they shouldn't be jealous, but they're beginning to think that they might be.

"Would it be alright if I join you?" a light, feminine voice asks, and Echo jerks upright so quickly they almost topple off their stool.

They spin around to see who spoke, and their entire body goes warm at the crystal blue eyes staring eagerly back at them. They put her appearance together in pieces—the slight build, the strong jaw, the fair blonde hair, and it becomes immediately obvious how much she's dressed up to look like the Excerpt on the other side of the room.

Wondering when they just became so easy to read, and immediately embarrassed at themself for taking this long to realize, Echo indicates the empty seat across from them. "Go ahead."

She slips onto the stool and easily adjusts it a degree closer so they're forced to pull their attention away from where Signet sits. "Are you a friend of the Excerpt? You were with her here last time, weren't you?"

"I'm her bodyguard," Echo says, forcing their hands to rest on the table. "I'm just here to keep an eye on her."

The young woman peers around them to where she's sitting. "Oh. Because of what happened to Excerpt Blooming?"

They know that it's an innocent enough question, and that she doesn't know Echo's history, but they duck their head anyway. "Something along those lines."

She studies them for a beat, then smiles prettily and says, “My name is Nadine.”

“Echo.” They return her study with one of their own. “You have a slight accent. Where are you from?”

Nadine blushes and lifts a hand to fuss idly with her hair. “You have one too.”

“Well. Yeah. Are you from Perigean or Seiche?”

This gets her to laugh, as if delighted that they’ve discovered this little secret about her. “Seiche! And you?”

“Perigean, originally, but I went between the two a lot on jobs. My family is still on Perigean.”

Nadine props her elbows up on the table and leans in towards them, chin resting in the palms of her hands. “I’ve been trying to hide my accent because I’ve been told that it ruins the act.”

That confirms what they suspected. “Did someone tell you to come talk to me?”

“Because you keep staring at the Excerpt with moon eyes?” Nadine tosses her head, blonde hair cascading over one shoulder. “Perhaps.”

“I do not make moon eyes at the Excerpt,” Echo says, feeling the blood leave their face. A beat, then, quietly, “Do I?”

“Would it reassure you to know that it wasn’t her that sent me over here?”

“A bit.”

“Then breathe easy that I don’t think she’s noticed.” Nadine turns and wags her fingers in the direction of the desk, and Echo looks over to see Pilar giving them a cheeky grin and a wave. “She means well. And you’re nervous. We only have to talk.”

"I... would like that," Echo starts, hesitantly. "Sitting around doing nothing is not really my thing."

Nadine gets a look on her face that only makes their blush intensify. "I can think of some other things we can do—"

"No. I'm not... No, thank you. But that's even less my speed than sitting and talking." Echo buries their face in their arms and lets out a small groan. "I'm sorry, I'm a little awkward."

She giggles and pats them reassuringly between their shoulder blades. "Whatever you are comfortable with. I can get a deck of cards if you would like to play a game? Oh, or I can tell you a secret or two about what the Lady Excerpt likes..." Nadine trails off and gives a playful wink.

Echo immediately switches to Tidal before they can embarrass themself in Diasporan where Signet could hear. "It's not like that."

Nadine tilts her head to the side, and for a moment, Echo wonders if she doesn't understand them. But a delighted smile takes over and she scoots in closer. "Are you sure? Could have fooled me."

It's a relief to hear their native language again. Echo hasn't used it with Lumen while on Thyrsus. All they hear most of the time is Diasporan and Thyrsian, but there is something far more comforting about the precise tones and phrases of Tidal.

They sigh and shake their head. "I respect her and look up to her."

"You can do those things and still want to kiss her."

"If you keep it up I'm going to pass out because all my blood is going to be in my cheeks."

Nadine leans back on her stool, gripping the edge of the table and using the new angle to consider Echo—her frank gaze sweeping up and down them several times. "I don't see what the problem is."

"I'm her bodyguard."

"So?"

Echo flounders, uncertain of a good answer to that. "That's all I am."

She purses her lips and makes a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. "Are you going to her birthday?"

"I'm her bodyguard," they repeat, and Nadine rolls her eyes a little dramatically.

"Are you going to work during the whole party?"

They shrug. "Probably."

"Echo, that is so boring!"

"I don't know what sort of answer you're expecting—"

Nadine reaches out and starts to toy with their hair, which hangs loose down their back.

They shiver, but don't flinch away from her touch.

"You're very good looking. Not the Excerpt's normal type, but—"

"You know, Polyphony said that as well when we first met."

Lifting an eyebrow, Nadine continues to idly fuss with their hair. "The Excerpt has a type."

"I figured."

She knocks their shoulder playfully. "I don't think you should let that stop you."

They sigh again, and she mimics their sigh with one of her own. "It's nothing, Nadine. It's nothing. I just..." They catch themself before they can speak without thinking, and she waits with both eyebrows lifted. "Things have been a little weird, I think. A good weird? I don't know. It doesn't matter. I might just be projecting something onto her. I was having a rough time before I met her, and she's been kind to me. And... I feel like I'm getting to know her a bit better as time goes on, and it's natural to feel things for someone in that situation. And... I don't know. It's nothing."

" _It's nothing_ ," she says at the same time, and uses their own hair to bop their cheek lightly. "Sure. Are you trying to convince me or you?"

They think about it. "Is it working?"

"Not really."

"Oh."

Nadine gives a pitying sigh and shifts so she can lean with her head on their shoulder. "Why don't you just try for it? What is the worst that could happen?"

Echo could think of several things, most involving Advent, but keeps them silent. Finally, after shifting through all the possibilities and weighing each of them, they reply, "I could lose her."

It encompasses a lot of things, and a lot of fears. All balled up into one simple statement.

She breathes in, holds it in her lungs, and lets it out on a soft sigh. "And what do you have to gain?"

They think of the way that their body responds to the way she calls them _Little Flame_. They think about the soft, private smiles she gives them—like there is no one else in the room and that she has found the thing she was looking for. They think of the shape of her fingers and the lines of her neck and the way her eyelashes sweep over her cheeks.

"That much, hm?" Nadine teases, and Echo finds themself unable to respond. "I will give you a suggestion, okay?"

When they don't respond right away, she sits up and nudges them with her elbow. "Promise me, Echo."

"Alright, yes, what am I promising?"

"To at least _think_ about your feelings."

They wonder if that is really such a good idea, but they nod and reach out a pinky. "I promise."

Utterly delighted, Nadine takes their pinky in her own and gives it a vigorous shake. "Good!" And then she leans in and gives them a quick peck on the cheek. "For good luck," she says, and Echo can't help the smile in response.

* * *

Grand has since stopped trying to demand Signet's time for his sketches, and instead has found himself a permanent seat in _The Steady_ to sit and work out ideas.

Whenever Echo finds him there, Grand will turn the sketchbook around and ask for their opinions.

"Why mine?" they ask once.

"Because I don't think Tender takes me seriously," he answers.

Tender's response is a carefree shrug.

This time is no different, and variations on Signet’s face fill the the visible page of Grand's sketchbook—all calm and warm expressions. There are slight differences, but each sports notes indicating how different types of stone would hold the shape and what conditions they would be designed for.

Echo slides onto their stool alongside him and gives Tender a grin. "Hey Grand. Are you creating an army of busts of the Lady Excerpt?"

"Please," he scoffs. "That would be impractical and far below my skill level." Despite saying that, he does stop to consider something for several seconds before waving a hand to finally dismiss it.

Tender comes to stand in front of the two of them. "And how are we this evening?"

Grand grunts, and Tender nods as if he just imparted the most important wisdom she's ever heard.

"Of course, yes, certainly. How about you, Echo? Can I get you anything?" She waves a hand with elegantly manicured nails at a menu posted on a large sign board. "We got in a few new drinks."

Echo leans over and squints up at the list. "That's a lot of jelly juice cocktails."

Tender snorts, ears twitching in a way that is either amusement or irritation. They have a hard time telling the difference. "Yes. Gig's been spending some time in here when he wants to harass Grand."

"Says that we're both artists studying the same subject," Grand grumbles, finally looking up from his sketchpad.

"Don't say what I know you're going to say!" Tender presses her palm on the counter in front of him. "Be nice, Grand."

"What?!" he yelps, placing a hand innocently on his chest. "I wasn't going to say anything!"

She narrows her eyes at him, tail sweeping side to side in short, jerky movements. But she lets it go and turns to start mixing a drink.

Echo leans over to study the sketches as Grand takes a moment to stretch his arms over his head. "You know, her jaw is a little wider than that."

Grand pauses, hand reaching out towards his pencil. Slowly, he turns to look at Echo, eyes boring into them. "Yeah?"

They stutter, the back of their neck heating up. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like a critique."

"Uh-huh," Grand says, drawing the sound out, definitely sounding like he doesn't believe them. "And how do you figure?"

"What?"

"Her jaw." He taps his finger against the sketch on the top left of the page.

"It's just..." Wondering if this is really something they should be saying—as someone with no training in art or sculpture, who opened their mouth and spoke without thinking—they swallow and say, "You're trying to make her look more delicate than she is."

Grand draws back slightly, both eyebrows going up. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No—"

"You wouldn't have pointed it out if there was."

Mentally smacking themself, Echo heaves a sigh and shakes their head. "I'm sorry, it wasn't my place."

"No, it's not—" Grand sighs as well and rakes a hand back through his hair. The sleeves of his coat pull back far enough to reveal the hint of the tattoos up his arms, but despite his month and a half of being on Thyrsus, Echo hasn't seen the entire design of them yet. "No, I'm sorry. I sounded more confrontational than I intended."

He manages a crooked half-smile and sets the sketchbook down on the counter. "You've spent more time around her. I'm curious to your opinion. I've said it before, I'm trying to catch her essence, because this is more than just a statue of the Excerpt: It's a celebration of her legacy."

Echo doesn't know how a statue made as a 'celebration of her legacy' is anything more than just a normal statue, but they know better than to ask. "It's just what I said. The drawings you've done are beautiful, but they're passive."

Grand remains silent as they struggle to find a way to put their thoughts into words.

"You have her with her eyes lowered, like she's looking at something, or avoiding the gaze of the viewer."

"I was trying to decide if I wanted her to be cupping something in her hands, but I haven't perfected the face yet," Grand admits, slinging an arm over the back of his stool to turn his full attention to Echo. "What else?"

"I don't know if there is a 'what else'. You know what you're doing better than I do—"

"Like I said, Echo, I'm asking you your opinion on it. Both as someone who is close to her Grace, but also as someone who is perfectly alright with being frank."

Across the bar, Tender snorts in amusement.

Grand ignores it and carries on. "Belgard is a defensive Divine, right? Why shouldn't her Grace be passive? She moves to defend, to repair. Lately, she hasn't even done that."

Echo's mouth drops open, but Grand lifts a hand and makes a sound in frustration.

"Sorry, no. I don't mean to get into an argument over her duties as Excerpt. And I'm not making this as a critique on her. It is truly meant to be a celebration."

"Then have her challenge the viewer," Echo says, and Grand regards them curiously. "She never looks away when she's talking to someone. And she's not going to back down from the challenge presented by Advent, or anyone, for that matter."

"Huh," Grand finally says. Then, without explaining or clarifying, he pulls his sketchbook back into his lap, flips to a new pages, and starts again.

Echo watches him work for a minute or two before Tender puts a glass down in front of them.

"Looks like you might have fixed his problem."

"Or gave him a new one..." They watch as Grand's pencil turns lines into the shape of her face, large across the whole page. It's a bit of an effort to tear their gaze away. "He's running low on time."

"Speaking of the party," Tender says, though they hadn't even said anything directly about it. "What are you going to be wearing?"

Echo stares at her in silence for several seconds before slowly shaking their head.

She immediately frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't... own anything that's 'fancy ball' worthy." They put air quotes around the term. "And didn't she say it was going to be a masquerade?"

Tender doesn't really seem to be listening to them. Her eyes are wide, eager, and lips curling into a mischievous smile as she looks at them. Her tail swishes even more frantically than it had before, and she looks like a cat ready to pounce.

Echo draws out the inevitable awhile longer, pulling the jelly juice cocktail that she made for them closer and taking a long sip from it. "Maybe I'll just wear my uniform. It's fancy, right?"

She doesn't quite make a high pitched whine, but she pushes herself in closer over the bar and quite possibly vibrates at a frequency that would emit a sound to more sensitive ears. "Hey."

"Hm?" they hum, looking up from their drink.

"I have an idea." It's obvious she can barely contain her excitement at this point, so Echo sighs and nods. "Let me design something for you!"

Despite bracing themself for any sort of possibility, they aren't prepared for this request. "What?"

"An outfit to wear! Oh, I know just the look...." Her eyes get a bit distant and she taps a nail to her chin as she considers it. "It would look absolutely splendid on you... and you'd be sure to catch Signet's attention."

Echo chokes and coughs up the sip of the drink they just took.

Grand laughs, and Echo hadn't even been aware that he was listening to the conversation until they turn to find him leaning his elbow against the bar and watching this spectacle. "Don't mind me," he says. "Carry on."

Tender shifts her attention to Grand. "You need to help."

"Me? Why?"

"If I design you a mask, will you be able to make it?"

"Can I make a mask," he scoffs, which Echo has since learned is a typical tone for him to mock things in. "Of course I can."

"Now hold on a tic," Echo says, wiping their chin with the back of their hand. "I'm not agreeing to this."

"Why not?" Tender bats her eyelashes in their direction.

"Define catch her attention!"

Tender and Grand exchange a knowing glance, and Echo wonders if they've been more obvious about their growing feelings than they thought they've been. It's been over a week since their last visit to _The Gilded Butterfly_ , and Echo has honestly put thought to Nadine's words and did a little introspection.

The only conclusion they came to was that their crush might be a little stronger than they first gave it credit for, but not enough to actually act on.

"It's rather self explanatory," Tender finally says, and Grand nods in agreement.

"I'm not—" they start, then cut themself off, uncertain of how they want to finish that sentence.

"Trying to catch her attention?" Grand finishes, and they flush. "Memory alive, you're dense."

Echo bristles, but doesn't trust themself to ask what he means without sounding defensive. "I haven't been invited."

Grand laughs—a full bodied sound as he throws his head back, like it's the funniest thing he's heard in a long time. "One should never let the lack of an invitation stop them from going to a party. Invitations are unfashionable."

Tender winks at Echo before saying, "Did you get an invitation to Signet's masquerade?"

This gets him to shut up fairly quickly, jaw snapping closed and scowl taking over. "Yes I did, thank you very much," he says hotly. “This is the social event of a lifetime, I’m not about to not receive an invitation.”

Echo waves their hand in front of them to try and clear the topic out of the air. "Alright, that's good and all, but I'm not going to crash the Lady Excerpt's party. She'll invite me if she wants me there, or I'll be a part of the guard detail. I don't need... a fancy outfit or a mask or whatever."

Again, Tender and Grand exchange a knowing look. Grand shakes his head and makes a vague sort of shrug, and Tender gives a soft sigh.

"Well, I'm going to make it for you anyway," she finally says. "Just in case."

They give her a long look before ducking their head and tangling their fingers back in their hair. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.” A beat, then they glance up at her without lifting their head all the way. “If you knew something, you’d tell me instead of just letting me bumble along like an idiot, wouldn’t you?”

“On the honor of the Beloved,” Tender swears, holding up her hand.

“Do hunches count?” Grand asks his sketchbook. “But no, if you make a fool of yourself at this event, you’ll ruin it for everyone.”

Tender clicks her tongue disapprovingly but doesn’t say anything else.

Echo folds their arms on the bar and rests their chin on top of them. Signet’s birthday is about a month out, but they can feel the mounting tension from everyone’s expectations. They all talk like something is going to happen, and Echo scrambles to catch up to their page.

And beneath that current runs the all too obvious truth that their feelings for Signet aren’t going to be so easy to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who can i bribe to do a pinterest!aesthetic image of echo kissing a bust of signet? like [this one](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/272678952423373061/) or [this one](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/350999364705716784/)? I'm full up on my bullshit, babey


	14. Chapter 14

That morning, there's a knock at the door to their private quarters.

Confused, Echo answers it.

Signet looks up as the door swings open, her posture one of hesitation and uncertainty. "Oh," she says, as if surprised to see them there. "Echo. Good morning."

"Lady Excerpt," they reply, slowly. "Is something wrong?"

She looks to the side, tucking her hair behind her ear. She's dressed casually, like she does when she visits _The Gilded Butterfly_ , and for a horrifying second, they wonder if she sneaked out without them, or if she plans on going there first thing this morning. "I hate to intrude on you so early—"

It occurs to Echo that they've left her standing in the hall and she might not want to be seen by their personal quarters, so they step aside and wave her in. "Is there anything I can get you...? I don't have much, but if you'd like some water—or tea?"

Their quarters consist of a small sitting room that doubles as an unused dining room, as Echo takes all their meals in the dining hall. The back half of the room has a curtain closing off their sleeping area. It's more than what they had while on their own in the Tides, and they're not in their room enough to want for more.

She declines the offer to sit. "No, thank you. I was wondering if... if it were possible, if you..." Her hands flutter around her, pressing to her chest as if she's having trouble breathing.

Echo takes a step closer, trying to see if there is anything visibly wrong. There are shadows under her eyes, evidence of a sleepless night, but she holds herself upright. "I'm happy to help, Lady Excerpt. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?"

Signet shakes her head, though she clutches at her robe with one hand, the other lifting to smooth the tips of her fingers against her cheek. "I'm alright now."

Their heart aches a little, but they don't trust themself to reach for her.

"I would like for you to accompany me to Belgard," Signet says, finally meeting Echo's gaze. "If you would be willing."

"Of course," they say immediately, though a beat later they realize they don't know what that entails. "How are we getting there? Where is she, right now? Is she nearby?"

A smile flickers over Signet's features and she shakes her head. "I'll take us to her."

"Oh. How?"

Signet closes the distance that Echo didn't let themself cross, bringing herself to stand toe to toe with them. Then she reaches out to trace her fingers against their cheek, mirroring the motion she made to her own. They sway beneath her touch, and she steadies them with a hand on their elbow. "Hold fast, Little Flame," she murmurs, and then the world tilts beneath them and colors dissolve into streaks of paint as their room melts away.

Before they can even realize what is happening, it is done. The early morning silence of their room is replaced by a gentle hum, and the dim space shifts to bright sunlight and high ceilings.

Signet doesn't release them right away, and they make no move to separate themself from her. But a soft chirp catches her attention, and she exhales a sigh of relief.

She steps back, and Echo can breathe again.

"Echo," Signet says, her voice soft with awe and admiration, her face turned to the light as she spreads her arms. "Meet Belgard."

There's a pulse in the air, fondness and curiosity, a gentle hand testing the edges of them. Another chirp, the sound tickling their hair, and they finally look around.

The two of them stand on a walkway of what looks to be golden silks, stretching from one wall to the other. The space continues on down below them, soft yellow and white lights winking on and off in the distance.

Overhead, morning light filters in through a glass dome, and it bounces off smooth surfaces to fill the entire interior with a pale glow. More ribbons of golden silk dangle throughout.

Signet reaches out to stroke one gently, her expression vulnerable and reverent. "Echo, I need to speak to you in confidence. And I hope you don't think any less of me after I have told you what I need to."

"I would never."

"How quickly you speak," she says, though there's a fondness to her tone that eases the edge to her words. "Do you always act with such blind devotion?"

"You haven't done anything to get me to distrust you yet, Lady Excerpt. So I speak with confidence."

Her cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink, and she smiles. "Thank you. That means much to me."

Echo steps up behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. "Did something happen that I should know about?" They pause, pretending to think it over. Then: "Do you need me to beat anyone up for you?"

She laughs, which was the desired reaction, but it's a strained and stilted sound. "No, Echo, no. Nothing like that. It is something that is long past, and it is something that looms closer. These are the things that I wish to tell you about."

They nod for her to continue, squashing down the hesitation. She trusts them enough to reveal this information, though there is the possibility that there is someone or something she does not trust back on Thyrsus.

Signet nods as well, and she covers their hand with her own. "Come on. Follow me, and I'll tell you." She reaches for one of the silks and grasps it tightly in her hand. And then, with deft ease, she begins to haul herself up the rope formed by the silk.

Echo lets out a loud, tired sigh. "First the wall of Empyrean, now the interior of Belgard. How do you do this?"

Her laughter trickles down like water, but instead of answering, Belgard shifts one of the silks to the height of their knee, flattening it out like a ledge. Then there's a second at about waist height, then chest, and so on and so forth, as a broad staircase forms to follow Signet’s path.

"She likes you," Signet calls back. She's reached the large, circular window just overhead, and settles into the silk that forms something like a hammock for her. Her hair shimmers white gold in the light, and Echo has to take a moment to just look at her.

A whir sounds near their ear, like a beatle in the trees during summer.

“Alright, I’m going. I’m going.” Echo takes the first step onto the silken staircase, and the fabric buoys beneath them. They bound to the next step, enjoying the brief moment of weightlessness before moving on.

Up and up—the steps starting to lift them as soon as their foot lands, propelling them on until it becomes almost like a game.

Belgard launches them on the last step, and Echo lets out a startled shout as they are left hovering in the middle of open space for the split seconds before gravity starts to take hold.

They reach at nothing, and just before the panic starts to set in, Signet's hand closes around their wrist.

She grunts as she catches their weight, but skill wins out as she wraps herself with the dangling tendrils of silk. "I'm going to swing you to one of the ribbons, so catch on and haul yourself up, alright?" There's the trace of amusement in her voice as her legs twine around the silks as easily as she did the sash on the day they first met.

"Warn me next time that your Divine might try to launch me into the sky."

She just laughs, and lets go of the ribbon she grips to hold herself upright.

Echo gives another shout as they swing downward, but then Signet catches onto their other hand and uses her momentum to propel them in a half-arc towards the dangling silks. They scramble for purchase as soon as it is within range, tangling their arm and leg up in it before Signet lets go of them completely.

They watch as she swings back out into the open middle of her Divine. And as she reaches the apex of her movement, she expertly grasps one of the silks, unwinds her legs, and flips over so she is upright once again.

She swings back and before Echo can react, she catches onto their waist to steady herself—though they cling tighter to the ribbon to keep from slipping.

Delighted laughter spills from her, ringing through the space. Echo can feel her shaking against them. "I'm afraid I'm out of practice."

"At least you didn’t drop  me, so I think we're all okay here." Echo waits until she grasps a silk and transfers her weight to that one before they start their hesitant hand-over-hand climb up towards the hammock she had been waiting in before.

Signet still manages to pull herself up with far more ease, despite saying she's out of practice, and she helps them into the seat beside her.

Echo lets out a breathless laugh, pushing their hand back through their hair. "That was a lot of excitement for very early in the morning."

"She likes to tease, but she means well." Signet smiles as golden silk strokes her cheek and down the lines of her neck. She turns her face into it like a lover's touch, and Echo feels their own cheeks warm. "She would not let you remain here if she did not want you to be."

"Was there the possibility?"

"There always is, but I've told her all about you"

This time, Echo doesn't even try to disguise their blush. "You have?"

"Of course," Signet replies, glancing over at them through lowered lashes. "She has been worried after the death of Empyrean. I tell her everything. To let her know that I have been okay."

"Oh." Echo holds still as a strand of silk reaches for their cheek. It feels like a comforting hand against the side of their face. "I'm glad."

Signet turns her attention towards the window, her expression settling into a softness that Echo doesn't recognize. Tension that they had become so used to seeing on her melts away as the sun hits her face. "I don't visit her as often as I should. And it is because a part of me is afraid."

"Of what?"

"Repeating the past, I suppose." She reaches out and traces the tips of her fingers over the glass. "Echo, I am going to tell you something that very few people know. And if it ever got out, this carefully balanced structure that the Cadent maintains for the Free States might topple."

"And you’d tell me?"

"Echo," she says in the same way that she calls them 'Little Flame', and their heartbeat rings loudly in their ears at the name. "I trust you with my life. Belgard is my heart, she is what keeps me soft." Her fingers trace a figure on the glass, over and over again until it finally begins to take shape as the statue of Belgard that she keeps in the antechamber of her hall. "To lose her is to lose myself and I don't... I cannot let it happen again."

Again.

Echo stares at her, jaw slack, trying desperately to discern any sort of answer from her profile.

She keeps her face turned away, focused instead on the view of the unfamiliar countryside beyond the glass. "It happened a long time ago, but I'm afraid of it repeating. I was young and stupid then, thinking that I could fix everything and keep the Free States safe. When Advent attacked, I could only wait on the sidelines before trying to save any of them. I felt so useless and so I... I pushed Belgard when I shouldn't have. I lost her, then. Truly lost her. In an effort to keep me safe, she told me to run and like a coward I did and I—"

Her voice catches, and the morning sunlight reflects off the tears clinging to her lashes. "People began to say that I abandoned her. That I left her to die to save myself and after awhile, I began to believe them."

"Lady Excerpt—" Echo starts, reaching for her hand.

Belgard reaches out as well, the silk brushing against the backs of their hands.

She shakes her head, wiping at the corner of her eyes. "It's fine now. That was… Oh, nearly two centuries ago now. But I still think about those years that I was alone, that I thought she was dead." She squeezes their hand, but doesn't let go of it. "I learned a lot—about myself, about what it means to live without a Divine after I had been groomed for it. Not all of it good, but there were a lot of lessons that I kept close, even after Belgard returned to me."

"How did she return?" They know that Belgard is a Divine that specializes in repairing, using what is already there to mend broken cities and Divines alike. Unlike Gumption, who would find something else of an approximation and make it work. "Was it just… Needing time to repair herself?"

There's a pause as she takes in a breath, lifting her hand to tap her fingers against her lips. "Perhaps. That is something that I have learned when using my own abilities: It will take time for me to repair myself."

"What do you mean _repair yourself_?" Echo struggles to remember if this is something that they were supposed to know, or should have known. "I didn't know that you inherited Belgard's abilities."

"To an extent. It depends on the severity of the injury, though I have not been allowed to help in such a capacity for years. Not since Belgard's return. I…” she trails off with a huff of laughter, shaking her head at her younger self. "Without Belgard, I am not myself. I became a part of her. My reason for existing was to be her Excerpt. There is no 'me' without her."

Echo studies their hands, gripping one another in the space between them. The physical strength of her fingers, of her—as she caught them in mid-air, as they sparred, as she brought them down with ease. The emotional strength, her level head and calm demeanor. How much of that was due to Belgard's influence, they couldn't say.

Signet carries on, her voice turning soft and thoughtful, though the tracks of tears remain on her cheeks. "I've had many years to think about this, about how I could live if anything happened to Belgard again. I never thought I would be the last, but one by one I saw my fellows fall around me. And the old words kept coming back, that I was a coward, that I hid while the others went to fight and face Advent head on."

"Lady Excerpt, there are other ways to be strong than facing Advent head on."

She ducks her head to try and disguise the smile, but they still manage to see the edge of it. "I know. I don't know if I will have the opportunity to follow these other options, but I do know that they are there."

"Then what do you plan on doing?"

"I've thought a lot about what you said the other week when I asked you about what made you angry. I won't say that it opened my eyes to the ways of Quire, because I know how it has been. And I won't completely put my inaction on the Cadent, because she is trying her best. There are rules that I must adhere to as an Excerpt—as a representative of the Divine Free States. But I do blame myself for a cowardice to act. To not want to face this idea that we might be having to learn how to live without the Divines."

Echo waits patiently for her to continue. They think they have an idea of what she might be getting at, but need for her to say it.

"The first Excerpt to die after I lost Belgard was Tide. He… Came to the defense of a few Divines during an ambush. I happened to be there at the time, because not only had I abandoned Belgard to die, I couldn't face my people on Thyrsus. But he intervened, and the Divine Persistence was fatally damaged." Signet lifts her hand to her jaw, then lets it drop to the dip in her collarbone.

"I remember trying to heal him. Persistently, almost. I gave so much of myself to try and save him. Because if it hadn't been for my foolishness, he wouldn't have had to come. I would have been able to handle the defenses on my own." She trails off, lost in her own memories, until Echo gives her hand a gentle pulse of pressure.

Signet clears her throat, free hand dropping back to her lap. "Excerpt Will had to drag me out of the wreckage before Advent could close in. I was unconscious for a few weeks, but when I woke up without a scratch or burn, I knew that I had failed to save Tide."

Echo starts at the name, looking at her in surprise. "Excerpt Will? Of Harmony? You knew her?"

"Yes. I knew all off the Excerpt's during our time together, but Will, she…” Signet's expression falls and her shoulders slump. "Will was one of the only few who did not blame me for my actions. She eventually took me back to Thyrsus and stayed with me until I was able to feel confident in my ability to face my people. But until then, she let me stay with her on the Tides." The smile that she turns to Echo is soft and sad. "I felt her loss so strongly on my heart, though I know that it could not stand up to the loss that the Tides knew."

"I didn't know… I'm sorry. I accused you of not caring when Harmony died."

"It was a long time ago, now. We drifted apart over the years, as our cities wandered away from one another, after I got Belgard back."

"It's not 'okay', though. I saw what Excerpt Blooming's loss did. I didn't really understand…" Echo lets out a huff of breath and scratches their brow. "I will admit, and I'm sorry for how rude this will sound, but I didn't think of you as human until that moment in Empyrean."

Signet laughs, which isn't the reaction they expected. "Did you think that Excerpts couldn't feel emotion?"

The tips of their ears warm at her teasing, because that is sort of what they thought.

"You wouldn't be the first to say that. When we become an Excerpt, we become a piece of our Divine. We give ourself wholly over to these beings from the stars. I am turning three hundred in almost two weeks." She lifts her hand to the window, and studies the outline of it silhouetted against the light pouring in. "Very little of me is what you might consider 'human'."

"I don't think that any more."

She lets her hand dip, the shape of her fingers casting long shadows across her face. Her clear blue eyes lock on theirs and they can't look away. "And what _do_ you think?"

They think that they might want to kiss her, but they don't say anything.

Whatever sort of answer she imagines in their expression, Signet lets out a steady breath and turns away.

"Lady Excerpt," Echo starts immediately once the gaze breaks and they can form words again. "You are the last surviving Excerpt. Your Divine has died and come back to you. What is the future that you are planning?"

"A future where we don't have to rely on Divines," she says, confident in her words. "With each one we have lost, we have become more unstable. What you said to me in my office is proof of that, Echo. The loss of one Divine should not mean that so many suffer. We should have been there for the people of the Tides, just as we should have been there for the people of Gambit, or the Ever Forward, or Memorious. Any of the cities. We should have trained people to make repairs—it might take many to fix what Belgard could do on her own, but it is putting the power and the knowledge back in the hands of the people."

"But Advent is making direct attacks on the Divines—"

Signet shakes her head before they've even finished their thought. "We repair the cities. We cannot save the Divines, but the city should not cease to function because their Divine died." She tilts her head and regards them out of the corner of her eyes. "Thyrsus, for instance, still functions even though I keep Belgard hidden away. Selfishly, perhaps. I am asking for others to mourn their Divines and carry on, but I keep mine hidden. No one knows that I have lost her once, so they think I am being smart, keeping her away from the reach of Advent."

"What happened to Thyrsus after Belgard died?"

"It wandered aimlessly while I was gone," she admits. "The cities will typically rush to where their Divine fell and try to be as close to them as possible. But Belgard gave too much of herself away to try and save others, she scattered too far and too thin. Thyrsus did not know where to go. A city is drawn to its Divine, and it is not the will of the pilot… Well, I cannot be certain, Even might have a better answer, but the city ships are linked to their Divines. The cities used to be independent, of course. Back when the people of Quire ran from the Divines instead of to them."

Echo looks around, at the golden silks hanging limply in the open chamber, at the blinking lights stretching far below their feet. "And you think all this despite sitting here in your Divine?"

Signet turns her smile towards the distant ceiling. "Belgard knows what I want, and she agrees. It is hard on her, even more so now that she is the last. She does not want the Free States to suffer any more than they have, especially if she is lost again."

She finally releases their hand, though Echo had long since grown used to the warmth and weight of it in their own and forgot they were still clasped together. Her arms stretch over her head, and one of the silks moves to meet her grasp. "Besides, I feel safest here.”

The silence that follows is charged, waiting. Echo sits and watches her as she seems to gather her thoughts. They half expect her to swing off on one of the silks, not necessarily as a way to escape the conversation, but simply to enjoy the freedom of the movement it provides.

Finally, Signet straightens her posture and shifts to look at them. “Echo, I am asking you one more time. I am not fighting against only Advent. I am trying to bring a future to my people, to the entirety of the States, that lets us actually exist beyond the influence of the Divines.”

“I understand.”

“It’s not going to be easy, and I don’t know how much time we will have, or what sort of problems that Advent will cause along the way.”

Echo laughs, and Signet smiles in response. “Lady Excerpt, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Advent’s idea of the future is destructive. They promise safety and prosperity, but they’ve done it at the risk of lives—both of their own people and the Excerpts they bring down.”

They never thought to ask Lumen how many were lost in the scramble against Empyrean. They never thought to ask Signet if it was only the Divine, or if others were caught in the fray.

Signet reaches out and catches the tips of her fingers just beneath their chin, tilting their head up so that their face is bathed in the warmth of the mid-morning light. “Will you stand with me, Echo Reverie?”

Their final chance to back out without repercussions. Their final chance to either abandon her for Advent, or to take the opportunity to drop out of the fight completely.

Instead, Echo lifts a hand to the one she has against their jaw—letting their palm cover hers for a lingering moment—and cups it softly in their grip. They press a kiss to the backs of her fingers, savoring the way they feel her go completely still, the sound of her breath catching in her throat.

“Lady Excerpt,” they murmur, “I am your right hand. Use me as you will. I will stand with you.”

Around them, Belgard hums, and in it, they can feel her purpose and determination, and in it, they can feel Signet’s gratitude.

“Thank you,” she says softly into the silence, and the weight of her promise settles heavy on their shoulders.


	15. Chapter 15

Even's sigh is heavy and strained, patience wearing thin in a way that resonates in Echo's chest. "Grand, we've been through this three times already."

"Well, walk me through it again."

"Why?"

Grand scoffs, and looks to Echo as if for support—then, finding none, looks up to the domed ceiling. "I am going to reveal my finest piece tomorrow night at the masquerade. Not a single thing can go wrong."

Echo glances to Even, who shakes his head in exasperation. "Nothing should happen to the Excerpt either."

Grand waves a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, the two of you will take care of that. But who is going to look after my statue?"

"We will?" Echo tries.

"Then walk me through the security detail _again_."

Even clamps a hand onto Grand's shoulder, probably a bit tighter than necessary as Grand jumps and makes a small sound in surprise. "Fine. To the beginning. Do you perhaps want to take notes?"

"No, I—"

Echo smacks their hand into their palm, coming up with a brilliant idea. "Oh, I can go get Gig to film it for you!"

Grand frowns. "That won't be necessary."

"Are you sure? Because you seem to be having a hard time remembering this."

Even nods solemnly at Echo's words. "It's as if you don't trust us."

"That you think we'll slip up."

"That your statue will be ruined!"

Grand manages to twist out from beneath Even's hand and pulls smartly at his vest. "Fine. You've made your point."

This time, Even slaps Grand on the back and chuckles. Grand stumbles under the force of it, but wisely keeps quiet. "That's better. Now, are we going to be installing it in the ballroom today? I understand that it's currently waiting in your studio, right?"

Grumbling under his breath, Grand pulls a sheaf of papers out from beneath his arm. He unfolds the top one to reveal his own personal sketch of the ballroom they currently stood in. "I have been considering this for a very long time. The best place for the statue will be right here." He jabs the map, then points to the corresponding place before them.

Even looks from the map to the spot he points at. "That's a fountain, Grand."

"I'm well aware."

Echo hooks an arm over Grand's shoulder to study the sketched map. "You're going to stick the Excerpt in a fountain?"

" _No_ ," Grand says with an exasperated sigh of his own. "We're going to replace the fountain with her statue."

Even actually pulls back, startled at the suggestion. "The fuck? And you couldn't bring this up _before_?"

Grand hand starts to make another dismissive wave, but he catches the glare from the two on either side of him and lets it drop back to grip the map. "I've been considering this for a week. I've finally settled on that being the best spot. See, here—"

He leads Even and Echo over to stand before the fountain in question. Behind them are the large double doors that lead in from the outside garden, which will serve as the main entrance into the ballroom. There's already decorators hard at work, cleaning the windows and tidying the hedges, ladders scattered throughout the room as people haul in the decorations.

Grand holds up the final sketch of the statue, positioning it in such a way that it looks like it is standing in the base of the fountain.

"When people come in from the reception outside, the first thing they will see will be the statue. It will be illuminated by the entire ballroom."

"It is a striking location..." Even agrees. "Alright. Fine. I'll have someone start draining the fountain and dissembling it."

Grand smiles smugly, but it quickly smooths over into something more professional when he notices Echo smirking. "I will also require Tender's assistance for the final preparations."

Even's shoulders slump and his wings give a distressed flutter. "What else is there?"

Bringing the sketch back in, Grand taps at where Signet's hands are cupped before her. "There's a reason I want her in the fountain."

"Is this statue a new fountain...?"

Echo snorts.

Grand starts to say something, but then snaps his mouth shut with a hum. "No. You can proceed with removing the current fountain display and draining the water. It will be fine. Tender and I have already talked about this."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Even replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll have someone alert you when the fountain is ready for the statue."

"Thank you, Captain Gardner." Grand seems to relax at this, satisfied that for the moment, things are going his way. "I'll be in my studio if you need me." He turns to leave, but gives Echo a pointed look as he does so.

Oh. Right. The mask that Tender asked Grand to create for them. They would have to go pick it up at some point, even if they didn't exactly plan on wearing it. The bigger question would be how would they get out of wearing the outfit from Tender.

Once they are alone, standing in front of the fountain, Even foregoes the more delicate nose pinch and scrubs his hand over his face. "That man exhausts me sometimes."

"More than Gig?"

Even barks out a laugh. "No. I'm just lucky I don't have to deal with him. Lady Signet seems to have him under control well enough."

Echo crosses their arms over their chest, studying the progress of the ballroom. The ambient chatter fills the space, and tomorrow night it will be filled with all the most important people in the Free States, all wanting to deliver a birthday wish to the Excerpt.

"Even?" they finally ask.

He grunts in response.

"I'm nervous."

Even glances down at them for a moment before turning his stare out to the room at large as well. "About anything in particular?"

"Advent. Tomorrow. The Excerpt."

"I'm glad we agree on all three of those points."

Echo steps up so that they can stand in front of Even. "Is there anything we can do? I feel so helpless just continuing on with things as normal."

"We just have to trust that Lady Signet knows what she is doing. This celebration is a request from the Cadent—as are Gig’s documentary and Grand's statue—but she knows that she can turn down the requests."

They shift their weight, looking at the polished tiles beneath them. "She took me to meet Belgard."

The silence that follows their statement is weighted, heavy. "I see," Even says.

While Echo never asked who else knew about what happened, they figured that Even and Fourteen knew. Tender too, probably. The vague conversation they overheard in the hall was enough of an indicator.

"She told me about her plans for the future of the Free States," Echo goes on. "Do you think she'll make an announcement tomorrow?"

Even thinks this over, then shakes his head. "Not yet. This is the first time so many leaders of the States will be in one place at the same time. Likely, she'll be feeling out the tensions and the general atmosphere before committing. She'll need more than just us on her side."

They nod in understanding.

"Anyway, I won't keep you much longer. I know you still have some duties for Lady Signet to attend to before tomorrow." Even offers them a reassuring smile and claps them on the shoulder—a bit more gently than he did for Grand, but still with his usual force. "We'll send for you if you're needed."

"I'll tell her Ladyship that you say hello," Echo replies with a grin of their own.

"Tell her to prepare for whatever Grand and Tender are planning," Even calls after them, and they laugh.

* * *

Echo doesn't realize they keep yawning until Signet chuckles. "You don't have to stay here. You're dismissed for the night if you wish to go."

They immediately snap their mouth shut and try to stifle the rest of the yawn. "You're still here doing paperwork."

"Hardly a life-threatening task."

"What if you get a paper cut? Or, worse! You run out of tea?" Echo presses their hand dramatically to their chest and stumbles against the side of her desk.

Signet laughs and saves her mug from their antics. "I am perfectly capable of getting myself some tea. Besides, that is not in your job description."

"I take dehydration very seriously, Lady Excerpt."

"Take your sleep more seriously," she teases.

"I hope you are saying that to yourself, because I am pretty certain that I heard the clock chime somewhere indicating that it's a new day."

Signet lifts an eyebrow and leans back in her chair. "Oh?"

Echo recognizes the challenge for what it is and starts to roll up the sleeves of their coat. "Happy birthday, Lady Excerpt, it's time for bed."

She watches them approach before her eyes go wide as she realizes their plan. "Echo, no—" The rest of what she is about to say is cut off in a surprised cry as Echo scoops her out of her chair. "Echo!"

"I'll carry you all the way there if I have to."

"I'm perfectly capable of walking," she scolds, through the laughter undercuts the attempt at sounding serious.

They hum in thought, moving around her desk with ease. "I don't think you are, or else you would have headed to bed ages ago. You have a busy day ahead of you, receiving presents and well-wishes before you have an entire masquerade hosted in your honor." They stage an anguished, long-suffering sigh. "It must be so hard."

She mirrors their sigh and presses the back of a hand to her forehead. "Terribly so." Still, she somehow manages to roll out of their grip, landing gracefully on her feet before they can get too far. "I promise I am almost done, but there's just one more thing I need to finish."

Echo starts to groan, annoyed, but it turns into a yawn and their shoulders slump in defeat.

Signet smiles as she slips away. "Get some sleep, Echo. You've had a busy day."

"Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?"

She hesitates as she lowers herself back into her chair. "Hmm. A shoulder massage, perhaps?" she says in a way that means she's clearly teasing, but Echo feels the blush regardless. "I've been working at this desk for over a month getting ready for tomorrow and for everything that will come after, that I—"

"Alright."

This time, it's her turn to go a little pink. "I... Oh. You don't have to, that's not your job, either."

"I don't actually know what _is_ in my job description. I still haven't received a welcome packet or anything even though I asked for one on my first day." Echo moves back to her side. "Do you have something that I can pull your hair back with?"

Signet silently lifts a long metal pin with a butterfly on the top end.

Echo can't help the temptation to let their fingers linger over hers as they accept the pin. It is harder to resist the urge to run their fingers over the lines of her neck and shoulders as they twist up her hair and reveal the flushed skin beneath.

She dips her head forward, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

Stubbornly ignoring the little voice in the back of their head that says that this is probably a very bad idea, Echo presses their thumb to the top knob of her spine—the rest of their fingers spreading across her neck and shoulder.

It's hard for her to disguise the shiver as their thumb sweeps across her shoulder blade. Echo narrows their attention down to the steady motion of their hands, working the knots of muscles from the top of her spine to about midway down her back, feeling the coiled muscles even through her dress.

Signet's breath catches and slips out on soft sighs. Her eyes flutter shut, and there's the hint of a small smile on the very edges of her lips.

Echo pulls away before it carries on too long, fighting to get their blush under control before Signet turns to glance up at them.

There's a long moment where she looks like she wants to say something, but distracts herself searching their face for an answer to an unasked question.

"Thank you, Echo," she finally says, looking away and back down to her desk. "That will be all."

It takes a moment before they can form the words. "Yes, Lady Excerpt." An apology sticks to the roof of their mouth, but they swallow it down as they head for the door.

"Another thing, about the masquerade—"

They freeze, back to her.

"I'm giving you the night off. Don't feel that you're obligated to attend to me."

Echo stiffens, slowly turning to face her. "Are you sure?"

Her smile is tired, resigned. "Of course. Take an evening to yourself without having to worry about looking after me."

"You say that," they start, and she huffs a laugh as she turns her gaze away. "But I will worry about something happening if I'm not there."

"Captain Gardner will be there, with all of his soldiers. I'll be surrounded by the most powerful and influential people in all of the Free States. I will be _fine_."

Even though Echo knows what she's implying, it still stings anyway. "I understand, Lady Excerpt."

Signet takes a sharp breath and hurries to explain. "You're welcome to come as a guest, of course, please don't think this is me telling you not to come." She lifts a hand absently to her hair, tracing the shape of the metallic butterfly. "I want you to have a choice," she adds, as if an afterthought.

"I understand, Lady Excerpt," they repeat, giving a small half-bow even though she keeps her face turned away, out towards her sitting room to the side. "I'll take my leave now. Please make sure you get some sleep."

She doesn't say anything else, so they leave the room and close the door behind them.

Echo presses their palms against it, leaning back against the door as they take a moment to evaluate their emotions. Eventually, they click their tongue and push themself away. "Right. Okay."

They're disappointed, but they don't know what they expected. They are her bodyguard—and like they told Nadine, that's all they are.

* * *

Echo receives a notice that afternoon to meet Tender at Grand's studio. So they do, and try to explain to the two what Signet said the night before.

Tender purses her lips. "But you're still going, aren't you?"

Their shoulders heave in a shrug. "I don't know."

"You should," Grand says from his spot at his workbench, hunched over and working with a fine-tipped tool on dark metal. "If only because Tender and I did a fucking _fantastic_ job on this outfit for you."

Echo looks to Tender, only to find her with her hands clasped together before her and excitement rolling off her in waves. "That's why you called me down here?"

"Of course!" She springs into action and takes their hand. "Signet is going to be wearing golds and pearls, so that means that _everyone_ is going to be wearing lighter colors. I wanted to give you something that would compliment her, but would definitely make you stand out."

Tender leads them to the far corner of the studio where a dress form is set up and decked out in a heavily embroidered black dress, the edges of it trimmed with a decorative gold lace. The stitches form butterflies, and sparkle with gold and amber beads. "I also have petticoats and boots and gloves for you. Oh, and new pins for your hair."

Echo reaches up to fuss with their braid. "This is a lot, Tender..."

Her tail is poofed out and she grins. "I know. I can't wait to see Signet's reaction to you."

"I don't know if this is a good idea."

"Nonsense, it's a _fabulous_ one."

"Are you nervous that she'll recognize you or that she won't?" Grand asks, turning around in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "You said that she _disinvited_ you?"

Echo makes a small sound in the back of their throat, running their fingers over the gold thread at the collar of the dress. "No. She said I could come as a guest but..." They let out a heavy sigh and shake their head. "If she's going to know everyone else there, it will be obvious if I'm pretending to be a stranger."

Grand rolls his eyes. "I can guarantee that for every ten people that are supposed to be there, there will be at least one uninvited guest or unannounced plus one. If you don't want to be recognized, you'll be one face in a sea of many."

"Besides," Tender adds, "it's a masquerade. The point is you _can_ be anyone."

"On _that_ note," Grand says, twisting around to pluck the mask from his workbench. "Come see if this fits."

The mask resembles a decorative skull, cast out of a dark metal with faint undertones of gold throughout. The cheeks are carved into delicate swirls, blocked out in sharp lines to the grimacing teeth. The top of it goes up and over their brows, more detailed carving around the spaces for their eyes.

It's beautiful and frightening.

"I'm not aiming to be a demon from her nightmares," Echo says, even though they're unable to keep the awe from their voice.

"Trust me," Tender chimes. "I have this _all_ figured out." She steps up and hooks her arm through Echo's and gives them a coy tug. "Just try it all on. I'll help with your hair and makeup if you want, though I also need to get ready and make sure that Fourteen is doing alright with their whole thing."

Echo isn't too sure just what she means by that, but they accept the mask from Grand and test the weight of it in their hands. It's lighter than it looks, and has a strap to fasten it in the back of their head.

Tender and Grand wait, expectantly, until Echo heaves a sigh and nods. "Alright. Fine. I'll try it on."

The two of them grin and exchange knowing looks that Echo chooses to ignore.

Tender helps Echo pack up the dress and the mask, giving them instructions on pieces that might be a little tricky.

Echo looks nervously between the two of them and attempts a smile. "I'll see you in a few hours I guess."

"It's going to be perfect," Tender says, and somehow, despite their anxiety and uncertainty, they are starting to believe her.


	16. Chapter 16

Echo arrives at the party after the reception, when everyone has moved into the hall for the masquerade proper. They took side routes and the underground paths, keeping out of the view of as many people as they could, though they carried their mask under their arm until they were in the gardens. The heels of their over-the-knee boots are steady, but Echo’s still fairly unfamiliar with the extra height provided.

Their hair is braided and pulled up into a low side-bun, held up by a delicate golden comb and a few pins that Tender provided. The dress fits perfectly, though is shorter than they would typically prefer. The layers of dark gold petticoats do a marvelous job at filling it out. Both the boots and gloves are made of the same supple leather, and it flexes easily with their movements.

Before they leave the shadows of the garden, they fasten the mask in place. It fits snugly over their face, though their breath rattles on a shaky exhale.

They gulp down their nerves and step onto the paved path up to the hall.

The glass doors are thrown open, and the music spills out, along with several of the party goers. Silence follows Echo’s approach, followed shortly by whispered curiosities, but Echo ignores them all.

Instead, their attention catches on their first view of the completed statue of Excerpt Signet.

She stands in the middle of the fountain, reaching of a height of what must be close to ten feet. Her hands are cupped before her, and golden light spills from her palms like liquid—splashing into the basin at her feet and swirling in a nebula of colors.

Echo lifts their gaze to the statue's face, and their breath catches behind their mask.

The statue has her head lowered, gaze angled down towards her hands, but her eyes lift to engage the viewer directly. Challenging them, almost.

The workmanship of the rest of the statue is elegant and graceful, the marble folding perfectly in the lines of her dress or the slope of her shoulders.

They lose track of how much time they spent looking at it, until someone comes up and taps them on the shoulder.

Echo jerks back, only to find a young man they don't recognize hold out a hand. "Would you like to dance?" he asks, and Echo figures _why not_.

He leads them into the hall, through the fabric and jewels, masks obscuring everyone's faces. The stranger pulls them easily into the steps of the dance, and Echo uses the opportunity to look around the room.

Across the way, they spot Tender wearing a pearlescent dress, and on her arm is an unfamiliar dark-haired person in teal, who Tender smiles at with a deep familiarity. They find Grand surrounded by a group of people as he talks, holding aloft a glass of champagne and looking extremely bored.

They spot Gig next, who is easy to find in his pieced together suit that still somehow looks charming, and toting around his awkward camera. From there, it's easy to find Signet.

A half mask of gold filigree covers her eyes, and her head is framed with an elaborate halo of golden rays. Her dress is an off-white with heavy gold accents, just like Tender said it would be, and it leaves her shoulders and her back bare in a way that Echo finds terribly unfair.

Even walks at her side, dressed in a formal military uniform. He has one hand to the small of her back as he guides her through the crowds.

The song ends, and Echo steps back from their dance partner without saying anything, cutting through the crowds to keep their distance from Signet—content to just watch her move about the room.

Echo accepts another dance, and during it, Even spots them and leans down to whisper something in Signet's ear.

They turn their face away and almost lose their place in the dance, but they keep their footing and return to the rhythm easily enough.

The next time they spot Signet, her eyes are already on them, and there's curiosity—palpable even from this distance. Once that dance ends, they move to the outskirts, silently declining any attempt at conversation as they pace through the shadows.

Signet appears to be looking for something—or someone. She’s distracted in her conversations with the state heads and religious figures, her gaze constantly wandering out towards the dance floor until she’s guided back in.

Echo wonders, giddily, if she is looking for them knowing she dismissed them for the night but daring to hope that they came anyway.

Or maybe she's hunting down information for their phantom—the masked stranger in black and gold, the shadow amidst all the glittering light.

They don't let her catch up, but every time they look, their eyes find hers.

Every inch of them strains to be near her, months of being at her side making their distance a tangible thing. They know not to be jealous. She dismissed them, but gave them the option to show up as her guest. They could have done away with the entire charade and taken their place at her right hand.

Instead, they let the whispers of the other party goers ripple from them, across the room in a sea of jewels and brocade.

And when Signet looks at them, they can feel the curiosity, the charged wonderment.

She has looked at them similarly before, but never with this level of interest. It's thrilling to be the subject of her attention in such a way.

They lose track of how much time they spend circling each other. Echo dances with strangers when asked, but they avoid those they know. (Which didn't stop Grand from doing an over-the-top "go talk to her" sort of motion with his head that they ignore.) No sense in forcing them to have to lie to Signet if her curiosity gets the better of her.

And then, late into the evening, it does. But not the way that they expect.

Signet breaks away from Even and cuts straight through the dancing crowds.

Echo freezes, their eyes widening as the distance between them closes. They wonder if she can feel it the same way they can—the space compacting and folding until it digs in between their ribs and keeps them pinned to the wall.

She stops in the middle of the hall, and the dancers form a tableau around her. She lifts her hand, and, slowly, the figures part. One by one by one, until there is a clear path that leads them straight to her.

Her hand is unwavering, patient, beckoning.

Their feet obey when the tug becomes too much. Step by step until they're walking with a confidence that the anonymity lends. Lending them the courage to stand before her as a stranger, an elusive secret, rather than her bodyguard.

It allows them to put their hand in hers, and marvel at the way that everything seems to fall into place.

Signet twines their fingers together without breaking her gaze. A soft smile curls at the corners of her lips as she holds them in place with her touch. "Dance with me," she says, and it's not a question because they would never say no, not to her.

So instead they nod, and she drops her hand to their waist, and they lift a gloved hand to her shoulder. The music starts up on cue, and she leads them into a dance.

Slowly, the rest of the dancers begin their movements again, and soon, they are just another masked couple in the swirls of fabric and laughter.

"I don't believe anyone knows your name," Signet starts, and Echo looks away. "I won't ask you if you have not been willing to give it."

 _I can't tell you,_ they think, exhaling. _I don't want you to know._

"You know, there are rumors that you are an assassin hired by Advent to kill me.” She casts them a glance out of the corner of her eyes, but quickly turns it away. “A splendid time for them to try and cripple the Free States, at my birthday celebration, in front of all the most important people.”

A pulse of fear rocks through them, and they gasp despite themselves.

They’ve dedicated these last few months to her, to distance themself from the future they could have had. And the thought that she might consider them one of those numbers made their heart hurt in a way they couldn't put into words.

"Don't worry," she says, though it does little to assuage the guilt. "I don't share their concerns." Signet lets out a soft breath, and they can sense the annoyance in her tone. "And I am so very curious as to what brought you here, but I am content to leave that a mystery. So that when you depart at the end of the night, I can be left with the imagined possibilities of what lies beneath that mask."

A strangled sound works its way out of Echo's throat at her casual flirtation. It's the most sound they've made all evening, and it only causes her to laugh. A little piece of their defenses and control crumble at that sound.

"I apologize. I'm teasing you when you've no inclination to speak. Then we will dance in silence." Her smile softens, and Echo finds their gaze drawn to it. To the curve of her lips and the softness in her expression as she slips into silent concentration of the dance.

With a recklessness they normally wouldn't exhibit, especially not towards her, they shift their grip on Signet—their hand slipping down her side, letting their touch linger longer against the shape of her.

It's easy to take control of the dance. To shift the steps so that they are in the lead, and tug her along towards the edge of the dance floor.

There is a moment of tension that goes through her. The fears she laughed off, actualized, and they wish they had the words to ease her mind. But then the game would be up, and the defenses would return.

So all they can do is hope their reassurance can be conveyed through their touch—that they only wish to take this moment for themself.

Signet follows their lead, but the smile slips into the professional mask that the other guests must see. It loses the softness it had when she looked at them, and they consider stopping altogether.

But they follow through. Because if anything, she will only know them as the masked phantom who disappeared at the end of this little dance. The caution in her shifts back to curiosity when they stop in a shadowed alcove, close enough to the dance floor that if she broke away, she would be within eyesight of the crowds.

They turn their back on the golden lights of the party as they guide her back against the wall. And, breathless, she obeys the push.

Any reservations are gone from her gaze. The smile has slipped completely, but in its place are lips parted in breathless wonder. Her eyes behind the golden filigree mask are wide and focused on every little move they make.

This side of her—the one caught off guard but curious, allowing her defenses to be lowered, allowing herself to flirt casually with a stranger and have them guide her away without a word—is one that they have never seen. Variations of it, perhaps, when she is around those she trusts.

Variations of it, to Echo. When she smiles at them during practice, or the unguarded surprise when they say something she doesn't expect. Her laugh when they stay up late in conversation. The curiosity. Always the open curiosity, as if waiting eagerly to see what they would do next.

But never like this, and they take this image of her, the way her eyelashes flutter as they lift a hand to her cheek, the way her breath catches in her throat as they trace the line of her jaw with the tips of their fingers, and they store it away in a back corner of their mind.

Braver with each thudding heartbeat, Echo presses the gloved pad of their thumb against her lower lip, not even caring as they smudge the rouge.

Signet's lips part beneath their touch, and she lets their thumb slip into her mouth, teasing the tip of her tongue before they pull away.

Their breath echoes inside their mask, drowning out the orchestra behind them, closing off the world until it is just the two of them.

They drop their hand to the exposed lines of her throat, marveling at the rabbit quick pulse as it jumps to meet their touch.

Signet tilts her head into their touch, leaning into them, as if she can't help herself.

Echo takes a step in closer, unable to stop the compulsion, needing to be closer to her magnetic pull. _Just a moment longer,_ they tell themself as they tilt their masked face up towards her. _Just a moment longer and then I'll leave and this will be over._

The metal of their mask grazes the exposed curve of her neck, and Echo lets it linger. Their lips pressed to the inside of the mask, allowing themselves the indulgence of pretending that they can leave a kiss to the soft skin.

A shudder passes through Signet, and her chest heaves on a breath. And, with her lips right beside their ear, she gasps, "Echo…"

Everything goes cold. Their hands spring away from her, afraid to touch now that the illusion is gone. Away. They need to get _away_ . They stumble back, nearly tripping over the unfamiliar heels. She couldn’t have known—she _can’t_ know—

"Echo, wait—" Signet follows after, and her hands light upon their mask, tracing the edges of it with the tips of her fingers.

They freeze as her touch shifts from metal to skin, allowing her to close the distance once more between them.

To their utter surprise, Signet leans down to brush her lips against the grinning mouth of the mask.

Echo's breath catches in the back of their throat, mind scrambling to catch up.

But she doesn't give them the chance. Gently, carefully, she pushes the mask up to reveal their face. Her expression softens, a mix of relief and hope and nervousness and utmost surety as she sets their mask on top of their head. "I would know your touch anywhere, Little Flame," she murmurs before she kisses them.

The ember in their chest turns into a blaze. They sway against her, mouth opening to return the kiss. Eager, eager—hand moving to the small of her back. They allow themself to trace the shape of her again, braver now. Mapping the arc of her spine, the curve of her waist. The lines of her that soften beneath their touch.

Her hand drops to their thigh, rucking up the layers of fabric of the dress and petticoats until her fingers graze their skin. Her grip curls around the back of their thigh to pull their leg up against her. Her nails tease at the sensitive edges of them.

Echo can’t help shiver, breaking from the kiss to gasp, and Signet nips lightly at their bottom lip.

They tear off their gloves, throwing them haphazardly on the floor as they press the palm of one hand against the skin of her back, the other curling around her neck—fingers tangling in the strands of hair, tugging her in closer, closer.

The moment lasts as long as they can let it, before Echo draws back—not out of range of her hands, but far enough so that they can catch their breath.

Signet's lipstick is smudged, and the color is high in her cheeks as she gives them a breathless smile. "You came after all," she murmurs, smoothing her thumb over their lips.

Echo kisses the pad of her thumb, glancing up at her to watch the blush deepen beneath the golden curls of her mask. "I wasn't about to miss this party."

She laughs and tilts their chin up. "Just the party?"

"The statue's nice, too."

Another laugh, and she leans back in to kiss them again.

The sound of shattering glass floods the ballroom, and cries of alarm go up from the guests. Echo jerks back, hand immediately reaching for Elegy, forgetting that it isn't there. The noise blends together in a wall of chaos, and Signet starts to move towards the hall.

Echo throws out an arm and stops her. Before either of them can say anything, people start to stream out through the halls, scrambling for the back doors of the ballroom. Echo sends Signet a quick glance before reaching up and tugging their mask back into place.

A man stumbles past in dress uniform, and Echo steps forward—catching onto his shoulder to stop him. In a fluid motion, they pull the sword free from his scabbard and push him back among the fleeing people.

"Stay behind me, Lady Excerpt," Echo shouts as they shift into a defensive stance.

Signet places her hand against their shoulder, and together they maneuver their way closer to the entrance.

A line of seven figures in white and full-face masks advances into the hall, fanning out in a half-circle to loop around the retreating figures, and Echo has to fight down every urge to charge in there to meet them.

"Advent," Signet breathes, and they can hear the anger boiling in her voice. She starts to take a step forward, but Echo twists around and uses their forearm to force her back.

"Don't even think about it," they warn, voice muffled behind the mask. "You hired me to protect you, so don't take a step into that hall."

She opens her mouth to respond, but then Even's voice calls out over the chaos.

"In the name of Lady Signet, Excerpt of the Divine Belgard, and in the name of the Cadent under Mirage, I order you to stand down." His wings unfurl, for a moment blocking Echo's view of the hall as he marches towards the center of the room.

"We're here to wish Her Grace Signet a happy birthday!" one of the figures calls. "She seemed to invite every other head of state except us!"

"Your Worship?" another calls, and the line of Advent soldiers snicker. "We'd like to have a talk with you."

There's the sound of a scuffle, and Even's wings snap back into place as he takes a few quick steps forward. "Unhand them—"

"We just want to talk to the Excerpt!"

Adjusting their grip on the hilt of the sword, Echo inches closer to the wall separating their alcove from the main hall. And then they see what is happening.

Grand struggles against the hands holding his arms behind his back, his lip bloodied and hair disheveled but otherwise looking more annoyed than frightened. Beside him, hands behind her back and an arm around her throat, is the Cadent Under Mirage—her eyes closed and her face pinched.

Even reaches for the holster on his hip, but the arm around the Cadent's neck pulls tighter.

"You have until the count of five," the one in the middle says. "One—"

Echo glances frantically between the figures, trying to see if there is any way to identify them.

"Two—"

None of the ones that have spoken yet sound like Ballad. Is he here, or did he just send out people to take the fall again?

"Three—"

They eye the distance between them and the one closest to their end of the hall. If they run fast enough, they might be able to—

"Four—"

A gunshot rings out, and the central figure stumbles back, their mask shattered.

Tender follows quickly behind, leaping into the fray with surprising ease as she lashes out a leg at the one Echo had been studying. They stumble, lose their footing, and hit the ground hard.

The remaining five immediately pull back into a defensive position—the two holding onto Grand and the Cadent heading straight for the broken windows.

Even lunges at the figure with the shattered mask and tackles him back to the floor, while Tender keeps her foot on the back of the one she knocked down.

The person in teal that had been on Tender's arm earlier stalks into the room, and lifts their arm to level the gun at the retreating Advent members. They fire, miss, and swear under their breath.

By this point, Signet's soldiers are flooding out after Advent. A few come over to retrieve the two taken as prisoner, and Even gets to his feet.

"Where's the Excerpt?" he shouts, looking around the hall. "Who saw her last?"

"I'm right here," Signet calls, stepping out of the alcove. "I want a situation report of my city. Did Advent harm anyone on their way here?"

"Soldiers are working on it." Even's attention shifts from Signet as she strides to join them to Echo, and his eyes narrow—hand moving back towards his holster.

So Echo pushes their mask back up off their face and jogs to catch up with Signet. They have nowhere to put the sword the stole, so they tuck it into their belt as they reach her side.

Even's expression shifts from suspicious to confused, but he drops his hand. "The Cadent's personal guard are securing the perimeter, but Advent did leave with Grand and the Cadent in tow."

"I want eyes on them as soon as you are able."

"Consider it done," Even says with a salute.

Tender and the other figure rejoin the group. "I'm sorry we weren't keeping a closer eye," Tender says.

"Thank you for acting when you did," Signet replies. "That was a good shot, Fourteen."

The figure in teal nods, and Echo has to do a double take—but even that doesn't help clarify. They are holding Fourteen's gun, though nothing else seems to add up. "If you'll allow us, Tender and I will go after them," they say, voice still the same as the gruff gunslinger's. They give Echo a brief glance to acknowledge their presence, but it doesn't linger.

Signet reaches up to untie her mask. "I'm going with you—"

A chorus of disagreement follows that statement from everyone there.

"Absolutely not," Even says, and a few of the hair tendrils strain against the ponytail he has them tied back in. "They came here looking for you."

"I am not going to sit around doing nothing—"

"With all due respect, Lady Signet, yes you are." Even's glare switches down to Echo. "Take the Excerpt back to her rooms—"

"Wait just a minute—!"

Even speaks louder over her protest. "—And make sure that she _doesn't leave_ until we can confirm that Advent has been either captured or is out of the city. Understood?"

Echo spares a quick, nervous look in Signet's direction before gulping and lifting a hand to their brow. "Understood, Sir."

Signet lets out a small, defeated sound, then spins around on her heels.

Tender gives them a questioning quirk of her eyebrow, and smirks as Echo blushes at the implication.

Even catches onto Echo's arm before they can follow. "Keep an eye on Signet, alright?" he asks, voice low and earnest.

They nod. "I will."

He manages a thin lipped smile. "We'll update her as soon as possible, but right now, the most important thing is to keep her safe." Even lets them go and turns back to the small group of soldiers that has gathered around them.

Echo hesitates just a second longer, then hurries after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do yourself a heckin huge favor and go look at the ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS art Lu did!!!!! [Look at them!!!!](https://twitter.com/smallpolar_bear/status/1096793063450701825)


	17. Chapter 17

Signet walks too fast for them to keep up in their heels. “Wait—” Echo calls, jogging after her, their mask under one arm. “The hallway isn’t secured—Hold on… Lady Excerpt!”

She stops then, whirling on them right before the door to her rooms. “Don’t call me that.” For a moment, there is true anger on her face, directed outward to the world at large. “Not you. Not right now.”

She pushes open the door and steps in before Echo can stop her. But by this point they’re close enough that, when her breath hitches on a strangled sound and her knees give away, they catch her with their arms around her waist before she can fall. Their mask hits the floor and rolls away, but they ignore it.

“Signet,” they murmur into her hair. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You kept me safe. I’m unharmed.”

“Not like this, Signet, you’re hurting and I can’t—” They cut themself off before they can finish that thought. Their grip tightens around her, and she doesn’t resist.

There’s a beat, then two, then her arms fold around their shoulders and tucks her head into the crook of their neck. “A moment. Just allow me a moment.”

Echo holds her close, willing her tremors to stop.

They don’t know how much time passes before she finally regains her footing. Signet turns away before they can read her expression, so instead they watch the lines of her back as she wipes delicately at her eyes and moves further into her rooms.

“The Cadent will be fine,” Echo says because they need to, even though they speak with a conviction they’re not certain they feel. “Everyone is out there trying to track her down.”

This is the wrong thing to say, apparently. Signet drops onto the edge of her bed with a huff, and they’re surprised to find that she’s pouting. “Everyone except for us.”

“Have a little concern for yourself, will you? Don’t make my job difficult after what just happened.” Their breath catches in their throat as she casts them a glance through lowered lashes, and then she falls back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh. “Everyone else is tasked with tracking down the Cadent. You’re tasked with remaining safe. I am to ensure your safety, and I take my job very seriously.”

From this angle, they can’t quite make out her features properly. Her chin is tilted in a way that would normally signify defiance, but with her eyes closed and her hands curled into weak fists by her head, she just looks so _tired_.

It’s the gold against dark blue that catches their eye. They study the figure she makes, gilded and pearlescent, glittering on a backdrop of indigo. She’s still wearing her fancy headdress, though the filigree mask has been discarded somewhere between the ballroom and here.

She looks like a constellation caught in the night sky, a Divine made human. Something so far out of their reach, that all they can do is look, and drink her in.

Every part of them aches for her, and they take a step closer. “Signet,” they say, and their voice breaks on her name. Shatters on the edges of her that they’re afraid to touch—as if with the illusion of the masquerade gone, they will not be allowed to.

Her eyes open, and she returns their stare. Her hand lifts, and they find themself reaching for it before she can even finish the gesture. Their fingers twine together easily as breathing, and they steady themself with one knee beside her on the mattress as the other slips between her legs to tangle with the the fabric of her dress.

But if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. She pulls them down to her, and they’re kissing her again.

Her free hand lifts to press against the side of their face, guiding them closer, deepening the kiss until their senses are filled with the taste of her. Their tongue taking the soft, hungry gasps from her mouth, their hand slipping beneath the small of her back as she arches off the mattress.

Echo leaves a trail of open-mouth kisses across her jaw and down her collarbone—following the ridge of bone as it dips between her breasts until their lips graze the top of her dress.

This is where they hesitate, her hand slipping around the back of their head and cradling it gently as they press their forehead to her chest. It's hard to catch their breath, and they have to closer their eyes against her brilliance. "Signet?"

"Hmm?" Her answering hum is faint, and they feel it through her ribs more than hear it.

"I... what I..." Words fail them. _What I want_ is to selfish, _what I feel_ is too shallow.

Signet waits in patient silence, and when they push themself upright, their knees straddling her hips, her gaze follows them with open curiosity. Her hands come to rest easily on their thighs. "Is something wrong?" she finally asks, and they laugh despite themself.

"I don't know. I..." Echo reaches back and fiddles with their hair, suddenly self conscious beneath her gaze. Without the mask, without the protective cover of anonymity, they feel ridiculous in this outfit, and, a beat later, realize the compromising position. They immediately roll off her and sit down on the edge of the bed with a huff of their own. "I’m sorry. I let myself get carried away, and—"

It's Signet's turn to laugh, and when she pushes herself upright, they notice that her headdress is knocked askew. “Don’t apologize.”

A strangled, 'oh', leaves them, and they spend a long time watching the way the golden rays framing her face stick out at an odd angle. She doesn't seem intent on fixing it, so they reach out to pull it free from her head.

She tilts her head down to give them a better angle, and they have to spend a moment untangling it from her hair before they can finally remove the crown and set it aside. "Should there be a problem?" she asks as she adjusts her posture.

"I kissed you," they blurt out, and her expression shifts to gentle amusement.

"I think you would find that _I_ kissed _you_ first."

"I... well... Yes. Before, though. I had my mask on. Despite my feelings for you, I would have been content to let it remain at that."

"Your feelings," she repeats slowly, and they can feel every inch of them warm at her tone. "Echo, you went through the effort of dressing so splendidly for me, and you would have been content for me to never know who it was beneath that mask?"

"I didn't think you would want to know."

Her brow furrows, and they wonder if she's feigning the confusion just to frustrate them. "Echo," she says, placing one hand against their cheek, and something inside of them stutters and jumps. "Why wouldn't I want to know?"

"Because..." Echo starts, and suddenly their reasoning just feels very silly. "I kissed you and I want to do it again. And I don't want to stop kissing you." They push on through their explanation, words tumbling over one another in their rush to be heard. "The problem is that I don't know if I'm allowed to. I'm your bodyguard. There must be some sort of rule or something. If this thing between us could even _be_ a thing, or if I'm just being foolish and—"

Signet cuts them off with a kiss of her own—a feather light press of her lips to theirs, enough that they could easily break it if they wanted to.

But they don't. They breathe her in, let the pressure of her kiss steady their thoughts.

She pulls back slowly, her palm a comforting weight against their cheek. "Who better to protect me than someone who loves me? Someone who is allowed to love every piece of me the way they want to?"

They can feel their blush beneath her hand, but her open gaze gives them the courage to say, "You are one whole that I wish to learn and love every inch of."

This catches her off-guard, and there's break in her confidence that belies a vulnerability they had glimpsed back in the cockpit of Empyrean and inside Belgard. She bows her head and reaches for Echo's hands where they rest in their lap. And then she bends down to press a kiss against their knuckles.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Signet’s breath is warm against their hands, and they feel that warmth spread up their arms and flood their chest.

They know that she doesn't just mean for them to stand guard. "Of course," they reply, the tips of their fingers grazing over her cheek.

Her laugh is tired, resigned, and her shoulders are slumped in defeat. "Thank you."

"I... do want to change out of this, though..." Echo fluffs the petticoats, frowning down at them.

"Oh?" Signet lifts an eyebrow as she drops one hand to their thigh, just above the top of their boot. As she speaks, her hand slides up, though not far enough to push the petticoats out of the way. "A shame. I was quite enjoying it."

Their face flushes, but Signet rises to her feet and moves to stand before them. They watch as she drops onto one knee, their brain scrambling to catch up with whatever her thought process might be.

Her hand hooks around the back of their knee and pulls it forward, resting the sole of their boot against her thigh as she settles in place.

"Signet, what—"

"Let me help you, Echo."

Their tongue sticks against the roof of their mouth, and they watch as she begins to carefully undo the buckles on their boots. With a gentle, fluid motion, she pulls it off and sets it aside.

She glances up as a strangled sound escapes them. "If I'm making you uncomfortable, tell me." Her slender fingers move to the second boot, and Echo's voice squeaks out an, "It's fine."

With both boots removed, Signet sits back on the edge of the bed, turning Echo a degree so that she can begin to pull the pins from their hair.

"This has Tender's hand all over it," she muses as she works. "Did you let her talk you into this?"

Their shoulders shake with a muffled laugh. "A bit. Otherwise I would have shown up in my uniform with no mask on and just lurked at your side all evening."

Signet runs her fingers through their hair as soon as the last of the pins is free, shaking it loose over their shoulders and combing out the tangles. "I'm glad she decided to meddle."

Echo shifts so that they're facing her. They wait until she lifts her gaze to theirs before they lean in and leave a soft kiss to the corner of her lips. "Me too."

Signet leans back, hands propping her up as she lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry this can't be under better circumstances."

They glance down at their lap, fiddling with the embroidered edges of their dress. They can feel the weight of her gaze on them, and the meaning behind her words. "Yeah," they finally agree.

Echo turns to her after a beat. Their lips tingle with the memory of her kiss, and they bite their lower lip without realizing it.

With a laugh, Signet sits forward and presses her thumb to their mouth, getting them to free their lip. "Come on then. You wanted to change. Let me see if I have anything for you." She rolls to her feet, and Echo slips off the edge of her bed to follow on bare feet as she makes her way to her wardrobe.

After a moment of searching, she pulls out a silk robe and an undershirt. "Here. I'm sorry, but all of my pants might be too long for you."

"Again, the woes of being short."

"Just shorter than me." Signet hands over the clothes. She drops her hand to fluff their petticoats with a small frown. "You can hang up your dress. I'm afraid I might have wrinkled it a bit."

"It's fine. I don't know when I would ever wear this again."

"Oh, I'm sure we can find some other party for Advent to eventually ruin," she says with a sigh, but a smile flickers across her lips.

Echo takes the change in clothes and heads back towards her wash room.

"Echo?" she calls after them before they could go too far.

"Hm?" They turn and find her watching them with a soft longing, and their heart stutters in the confines of their ribs.

“You were very beautiful on the dance floor tonight.” Her part said, she fetches a robe for herself and closes the wardrobe.

Echo is left standing awkwardly, wanting to say something but not knowing the words to use, until she moves out of their line of sight.

Slowly, degree by degree, they continue their path to her wash room. Once inside, the tile cool beneath their feet, they let out the pent up sigh that had been trapped in their lungs since the evening began. With it, they force out the anxiety and the nerves that roiled in their stomach—exhaling until every last scrap of it is gone from their body.

And then they double over, squatting down on the tile as they bury their face in their hands and take a deep inhale.

One more exhale, one more inhale, and as they breathe in, they stand back upright and tall.

They consider their reflection in the mirror over her vanity—their hair slightly disheveled and wavy, hanging down past their elbows—their dress, sure enough, a little wrinkled from Signet's hands—their lips, tinged red with her rogue, and their eyes, the kohl around them smudged from the palms of their own hands.

Echo changes out of their dress, finding a spare hanger to drape it over along with their belt and petticoats and bustier. The cami is far more comfortable, and the robe hangs down to their knees. They wash their face in a basin of cold water and raid Signet's vanity for a tie for their hair before moving back out into her room.

Signet sits on a small ottoman by the far window. She's changed out of her dress and wears a robe of her own. Her hands sit still in her lap, though she holds a brush in one of them.

She doesn't turn at their arrival, but continues to stare out into the deep darkness of the night. The glow of the lights from Seance are a distant vision on the side of the window.

Echo doesn’t even have to guess at where she is looking. They know that Empyrean is there in the darkness. Left exposed to the desert. Unsalvageable.

"Signet?" they say, and she jumps at the sound of their voice. "Is something troubling you?"

"No more than usual," she replies with feigned calm. She sets her brush aside and moves back to her bed.

Echo goes to fetch their mask where it tumbled from their grasp by Signet's door. They move it and their boots aside, debating if they should go put them with the rest of the outfit.

Signet pats the space on the mattress next to her as she relaxes back into the pillows. "Stay with me," she says softly, as if she hadn't already asked, as if they hadn't already said yes.

But still they obey without question, pausing only long enough to extinguish the lights on their way to her bed. A few candles remain lit in wall sconces, enough to give a warm, private glow to Signet's skin as she curls in against their side.

Echo drapes their arm around her shoulders, and she tucks her head against their chest. They allow themself the indulgence of tracing the tips of their fingers in idle patterns on her shoulder.

A few minutes pass in comfortable silence before they gather up the courage to ask, "Signet?"

"Yes?" Her voice is low, tired.

"Did you know it was me?"

Her shoulders shake on silent laughter. "No, but I had hoped it was."

They don't know what answer they expect, but it wasn't this honest of one. Not that they've known her to be anything but honest. "You said my name. And if it hadn't been me?"

Signet hums and snuggles closer. Her arm encircles their waist, and she tilts her head so that her chin rests on their collarbone. "I might have made myself look like a fool, hoping for another's lips behind that mask."

Echo wonders if she can feel the way their heart beats wildly at her words, if she can feel their breath catch as they find themself unable to look away from her dark eyes. They trace the shape of her arm up until they can tangle their fingers in her hair at the back of her head.

They lean in and kiss her softly, slowly, pulling her into their embrace.

She goes willingly, melting into them with a gentle sigh.

Eventually, they settle back into the pillows. The silence is like a comforting blanket as it drapes over the room.

Once Signet is asleep, the steady rise and fall of her chest accompanied by the weight of her limbs, Echo slips out from beneath her arm.

They spend the rest of the night on the divan, staring up at the dark ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, now I can share my [pin board](https://www.pinterest.com/littleladymab/divine-you-are-my-dear/)


	18. Chapter 18

The next three days are tense and silent. There's very little commotion on the ship itself, and Signet spends most of her time in her rooms through a sort of self-confinement.

They received a notice the first morning that there were no traces of Advent left on Thyrsus. It had been searched top to bottom, and the worst that had happened were a few guards knocked unconscious on Advent’s journey in. No serious injuries.

Echo joins rotation with Even, waiting for any sort of news from Tender and Fourteen, from the Cadent's soldiers, from Advent.

At night, they return to Signet's rooms to check on her.

She barely says a word, spending a lot of time on the window seat that looks out towards Empyrean.

The fourth day is when the commotion starts.

Echo spends the morning with Signet, standing silently at her side, a hand toying idly with her hair as they watch the sands shift across the desert.

A heavy hand pounds on the door, and they're immediately on edge.

Signet starts to rise to her feet, but Echo moves first. Their hand closes around Elegy’s hilt as they approach the door, and crack it open a degree.

Even stands in the hallway, eyes tired and jaw set. "Lady Signet," he says, looking past Echo. "Grand Magnificent has been returned."

There’s a jolt of relief, followed immediately by guilt. They were supposed to be the one who understood Advent’s movements, and yet they hadn’t been able to predict this.

They hadn’t been able to stop Grand Magnificent and the Cadent’s capture.

 _No innocents_ , Ballad had once promised.

Echo wonders when that no longer became true.

"And the Cadent?" she asks, hopeful, but Even only shakes his head. "Escort him to my office. I'll be right there."

Echo closes the door, watching her tug on a dressing robe. "It's probably a ransom," they have to say, because they know it's no use thinking it could be anything else.

"Any news is better than this waiting game," she replies, the bitterness seeping through into her voice. "He will have valuable information for us."

"I know." They let out a sigh and run their fingers back through their hair. "It'll be a start, at least."

Signet pauses at the door, and reaches out to press her hand to Echo's cheek. She doesn't say anything, though, and pulls open the door so she can step into the hall.

Echo falls into step behind her, slinging Elegy onto their back.

A crowd of people swarms her office door, so Echo slips ahead of her to clear a path. Questions come from the mass of faces, asking things that mirror their own thoughts. _Where is the Cadent? What does Advent want? Are we safe?_

_Is Belgard next?_

"Out of the way," Echo finally barks, and the people scramble to form a path for Signet.

Even waits for her just inside her door. He closes it as soon as the two of them cross the threshold.

Grand is slumped in one of the chairs, head in his hands. He starts to rise when he hears Signet enter, but her hand lands on his shoulder and she guides him back down. "Your Grace, I—"

"Let me help you, first." Signet kneels alongside his chair, her hand moving from his shoulder and tracing along the line of his jaw. "Is anything broken?"

He has a black eye and the lip that was split at the party doesn't look any better. As her hand passes over his face, the bruises and cuts heal—mending like they weren't even there to start with. Grand shakes his head, blinking his eyes rapidly now that one isn't swollen. "I think just bruised ribs, and I might have twisted my ankle. They didn’t torture me or anything, but they weren't exactly gentle handling me. I was the expendable one."

Signet's hands hesitate before finally settling on his chest. "Hold still."

"What are you—" Grand starts, but the rest of the question is cut off as he screws up his face in discomfort. It passes after a minute, and he gives a breathless cough as he straightens his posture. "Oh. That's better."

She aims a soft smile in his direction as she uses her desk to lever herself back to her feet. "I'm glad you were returned safely, though I'm sorry that it had to happen to you in the first place."

"I was standing with the Cadent when they grabbed her," Grand explains. "I might have, uh, thrown my glass at one of them for lack of a more serviceable weapon."

"Champagne in the eyes," Echo muses. "Excellent tactic."

Grand smirks at the teasing, but it quickly slips back into a more somber expression. "I've been sent back to deliver a message to you, Your Grace."

Signet leans back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap. "Let's hear it then."

"The Advent Discovery and Salvage Society formally requests that Excerpt They Marked Scars of Light in Pitch; Born in Fiercest Purpose, and Beheld as the Signet Sealed Upon our Pact surrender herself in exchange for the life and safety of Our Holy Representative, Light in Darkness, Guidance Under Mirage, May She Live in Peace. You have one week, and at that point, they will launch an attack on the Divine Belgard and use her parts to restore Privign themselves."

Signet lets out a shaky breath, her eyes closed as she processes this information.

Echo glances to Even, his wings fluttering in irritation. "Well, you know where they are, right?" Echo asks Grand. "You just came from there. We can go after them and—"

But Grand shakes his head, leaning forward in the chair so he can run his hands back through his hair—fingers locking around the back of his head. "One of them brought me here himself. Left his personal ship just outside of Seance's radar, and we took a transport to the city, where he put me on shuttle to Thyrsus. But by that point, the Society's flagship was already on the move."

Echo fingers the strap of Elegy, stomach flipping uncertainly at the thought rising unbidden at Grand’s words.

"Thank you, Grand Magnificent," Signet finally says, pushing herself back to her feet. "I will consider this information carefully." She hesitates, studying the papers on her desk with an absent sort of curiosity. "Your job has been completed: The statue that the Cadent commissioned from you is finished. You must want to go back to Memorious as soon as possible?"

Grand snorts, shaking his head as he sits back up. "Fuck, no. I took the job because I was bored out of my mind." He gives Signet a rueful grin. "This is the most entertained I've been in a long time. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay. And help any way that I can."

Her expression softens and her posture relaxes. "I would like that," she says softly.

* * *

The crowd is gone by the time they leave Signet's office. Even takes Grand back to his room, and Signet decides to remain in her office to try and get some work done.

"Just because the political world hangs in a very tense balance doesn't mean the paperwork stops," she remarks wryly when Echo asks if she's staying.

Echo goes on a walk.

A nervous energy returns to their limbs, having grown during the conversation with Grand. They have to keep moving, or they're afraid that they'll just vibrate into a million little pieces.

They take every little hidden path they can think of, keeping off the main halls and walkways, taking turns at random in an unconscious attempt to get lost. Anything to remove themself from the situation.

Anything to try to not acknowledge a very strong possibility.

Echo rounds a corner a little too quickly and smacks into Lumen—who takes the same corner just as quickly from the opposite direction. "Ow—oh, shit, hey. You okay?" They reach out and help steady Lumen, who clutches their nose.

"Yeah," Lumen says, checking their hand. Satisfied, they look at Echo—and then immediately jump as if they hadn't realized who they had run into. "Echo!"

"That's me?" Their leg bounces anxiously, and their fingers drum out a rhythm against their thigh. They need to keep moving. They need to distract themself.

"I..." Lumen's voice peters out, and their shoulders slump. "I was just looking for you."

Echo's insides go cold, and they try to will themself still. "What is it?"

From an inside coat pocket, Lumen draws out a folded piece of parchment and holds it out to Echo.

They don't reach for it, staring at it as if it will burst into flames at any second. Everything they didn't want to think about formulates into an answer they don't want.

"He dropped off Grand Magnificent and called me out to see him," Lumen says. They don't even need Echo to say anything. They can probably read the conclusion all over Echo's expression. Their face is pale and drawn, and it's then that Echo realizes that Lumen is trembling. "He said I would always have a place at Advent if I wanted one, and asked me to give this to you."

Echo takes the letter, stares at the unassuming parchment, a bit wrinkled from being inside Lumen's pocket.

It feels so heavy for something with barely any weight at all.

"Thank you," Echo finally says, voice thick.

"What is the Excerpt going to do?"

"Did he tell you the conditions of the ransom he sent back with Grand?" Echo shoves the letter into their own coat pocket, not wanting to look at it.

Lumen hesitates, then shakes their head.

"She has a week to turn herself over in exchange for the Cadent, or Advent is going to attack Belgard."

Their eyes go wide, and the trembling starts up again. "Echo, what are we even doing here?"

This isn't the question they expected. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we were just kids on Perigean. Goofing around. I would play the guitar and you and your siblings would show off all your training and just... Things were so normal." Lumen lifts a hand to their face, and they wipe tears from the corner of their eyes. "And now we're here, stuck in the middle of this damned political grab, and I just..." Lumen sucks in a lungful of air, holds it, and pulls themself upright. "Anyway, I told him to fuck off, and I left."

Echo barks out a laugh, scrubbing their face with the heel of their hand. "Yeah, we're in some shit, aren't we?"

"I quite like it here," Lumen muses, sniffling as they continue to swipe away the tears. "Captain Gardner is great, and understanding and patient. And the Excerpt is... She's amazing and not at all like I thought she would be."

"Yeah..." Echo looks down at their feet. "She has that effect on people."

Lumen rolls their shoulders, looking a little more in control than they had a moment before. "I don't know what he put in that letter, but just ignore it. And I know it might be hard, but I think we've made the right choice." Lumen reaches out and puts a hand on Echo's shoulder. "And it's the right choice because we made it for ourselves."

Echo doesn't say anything, and wills that to be true.

* * *

Signet is not in her rooms when Echo returns, so they drop onto the ottoman at the foot of her bed and open the letter with trembling hands.

They recognize Ballad’s handwriting immediately, and something in their stomach lurches at the familiarity of it.

_I would know that stance of yours anywhere, Little Tiger. Working with the Excerpt, despite knowing what she represents? Not only that, but defending her? I thought you had more sense than that. Turn over Excerpt Signet to us. You’ll be well rewarded, and well regarded._

_Come back to us, Echo. You don’t belong at her side. You belong at mine, and together, we could do such great things for Quire—for the Tides, for our family._

_You shouldn’t have to choose between fighting with or against me. You’re still my little sibling. Mom and Dad are doing well. Legato misses you. Think about that next time you draw Elegy on behalf of the Excerpt._

_— B.R._

Echo reads the letter over again, and a third time, then crumbles it into a ball and doubles over their knees, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to fall.

* * *

They barge into Signet's office without even knocking.

She jumps at the sound, hand going to a letter opener on her desk, before she realizes who it is and relaxing. "I was starting to worry—"

Echo steps up to her desk and tosses the letter down on it. "Lady Excerpt," they start, and they watch as her expression shifts, darkens, worry flickering behind her eyes. "I have something to confess."

Signet slowly reaches for the parchment, smoothing it over with careful fingers. She glances over the words, but waits for them to collect their thoughts.

"It's about Ballad, of Advent. He's—" Echo flounders, afraid to speak the words, afraid to feel the edges of them in their mouth. "He's my brother."

Her eyebrows go up in surprise, but the rest of her expression smooths over. "I see. I think that actually explains several things I had been wondering."

"I did a lot of things because he's family. And... I still love him, despite all of the super shitty things that he's done with Advent." Echo drops into the chair and covers their face with their hands. "It's not even that I got my anger from him, and being away from him has let me see things differently. All of it was my own, because I didn't want to listen to him for _years_." A laugh works its way out of their mouth.

In the silence of their statement, they can hear Signet rising from her chair, her footsteps rounding her desk and the whisper of fabric as she kneels beside them.

Her hand lands in their hair, playing with the strands as they drop their hands to look at her. "You have valid reasons, Echo. And you did learn to see things differently, or at least allow yourself to understand them from a perspective you never had before." Her thumb smooths over their brow, and Echo sighs beneath her touch. "The important thing is what you decide to do going forward."

"I'm not handing you over, if that's what you're implying."

"I never thought that you would."

Echo shifts in the chair, reaching out one hand so that they can press their palm against Signet's cheek. "When we were dancing, I couldn't... You teased about if I had been Advent, there to kidnap you. And then everything that has happened..."

Signet tilts her head to press a soft kiss against Echo's palm, her own eyes slipping shut as their hand slides back through her hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I had hoped that it would be you, and that... I was willing to test your loyalty in such a way. Or to tease you to reveal yourself so I could know."

They let out a huff of breath, and they lean in to press their lips to hers. "I choose your side, Signet. I want to be by your side. You've listened to my concerns. I've seen your plans and proposals to restructure the States so that they're sustainable, even after Belgard. I would just like to... have Ballad understand. That there is more beyond just the money and power that Advent offers."

Signet gives them another kiss before they tug her up and into the chair with them. She leans in to press their foreheads together, taking a steadying breath as their hand tangles back in her hair. "Echo—"

"Before you even ask, Signet," they start, and they can feel her relax into their embrace at her name. "This has always been my choice. Once I learned, once I knew more of the story, it was such an easy choice to make."

She exhales, and they kiss her.

* * *

It is five days after Grand's return that Even pulls Echo aside. He looks so tired and worn. His hair hangs limply from his head, and his wings shuffle uneasily on his back. "Has she told you anything?" he asks, and his face just screams exhaustion.

Echo pauses to think, then shakes their head. "We haven't really talked about the ransom note." They pause, then add, "Did she tell you... about Ballad?"

Even looks away, embarrassed, and nods. "I'm sorry that you couldn't tell me on your own terms."

They shake their head. "Honestly, I probably wouldn't have. It was kind of... irresponsible of me to not bring it up sooner, but at the same time, I honestly didn't want to acknowledge that he would keep doing this. Especially not after I learned how narrow my worldview was."

"Don't beat yourself up over it, alright?" Even puts a hand on their shoulder and gives them a small shake until they can meet his gaze again. "And don't blame Ballad for his choices, either. He hasn't learned what you have."

A small smile manages to work its way onto their mouth. "Yeah, but I don't know if delivering him a manifesto of the Excerpt's plans is really the best way to go about getting him to see her view on things."

Even laughs, though the sound is just as tired as the rest of him. "Perhaps not." There's a beat, then he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and says, "I think Lady Signet is planning something."

Echo hesitates. "In all honesty, I think it would be more alarming if she wasn't."

"And she hasn't told you anything?"

"No."

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "She is making it extremely difficult to keep her safe."

Echo takes a breath, but holds it in their lungs as they consider their words. "Are you implying that you want me to stop her?"

Even's jaw works over his response. "Yes. She gets reckless when something she loves is taken, and we cannot afford that from her right now."

"I understand." They give Even a quick salute.

"And I'm not asking for you to report back to me on anything she does. You're her bodyguard. She trusts you to protect her, and I trust you to make the right decision when the moment calls for it."

Echo drops their gaze, but gives a nod in understanding. "I'll do what's right by the Excerpt."

"I expect nothing less." Even takes a step back, his posture looking a little less worn down. "We have a lot of work ahead of us just trying to make sure we can rescue the Cadent and prepare should the worst happen. Remind her of this, and remind her that we're all still here for her."

They think about how she's pushed away almost everyone the last few days. Tender and Fourteen, when they've been on Thyrsus, never see her. Gig grumbles about a lack of material to film, and Grand works steadily in his workshop without taking visitors.

Even is busy with the ship's systems and commanding his soldiers, but even then he makes time to visit with Signet.

Echo is the only one she keeps consistently at her side.

They've spent more time in her room over the last eight days than they have in their own. And yet they haven't spent a lot of time discussing her plans, beyond a few cursory questions she had about Ballad.

"I'll let her know," they say, softly, hoping that the worry isn't too audible in their voice.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, quick warning: there's some gun violence at the end of the chapter. I've denoted it with a ******* , and placed another reminder at the start of that section. It's just the last few lines and you won't miss anything important if you skip it!

Echo is half awake by the time that they hear a faint _thunk_ and a muttered swear from somewhere in the room.

They bolt upright on the divan, hand reaching for Elegy before their brain even processes what it is they’re seeing in the heavy darkness.

“Whossthere?” they slur, rolling to their feet and blinking away the sleep.

The sound pauses, then, softly, Signet says, “Go back to sleep, Echo.”

They’re completely awake now, eyes adjusting to the darkness until they can see her form across the way. She’s dressed in the bodysuit she had worn the time she arrested them. Her hair is pulled back into a severe ponytail, and she’s in the process of tugging on her boots. “What are you doing?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she says, and they can’t help the laugh.

“Nothing? You’re wearing your ‘I’m going to go kick some ass’ clothes.” Echo leans over and turns on one of the lamps just in time to see her wince.

She stands tense, ready to bolt beneath their gaze. Guilty at having been caught. It doesn’t make sense at first until they noticed the poppy pinned to her collar.

They add up the time in their head, and the blood drains from their face as they realize. “It’s the deadline for the exchange. From Advent.”

When she doesn’t respond, Echo leaves Elegy behind on the divan and crosses the room to catch onto her hand. “Signet, you can’t really be thinking that you’re going to turn yourself over to them.”

Signet has a hard time meeting their gaze. “The Cadent is a far more important figure in ensuring the States even _have_ a future.” There’s a moment of hesitation before she pulls her hand away to fuss with her collar. “She will have my notes and suggestions. I wouldn’t be able to implement them without her support, anyway, so it’s useless if I am the only one left.”

Echo struggles to find words through their confusion—unable to figure out just how much she’s not telling them, or how much she is willfully ignoring. “They’ll kill you, Signet.”

“No, they won’t,” she says with a confidence they have no idea how she musters. “They asked for me in exchange for the Cadent, not Belgard.”

They toss their hands into the air, frustrated. “Yeah, so that Belgard can come and save you and then they’ll just get her an Excerpt of their own.”

She snorts and turns away to finish fastening her boots. “I’m not having this discussion.”

“Alright, fine, fuck all about you then since you don’t care: What about me?”

This gets her to pause, and, slowly, she straightens her posture to stare down at them. “What?”

“I’m coming with you, of course.”

Signet frowns, though it’s more upset than annoyed. “You cannot.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”

“Echo, I forbid it.”

“As the Excerpt? Because I’m not coming as your bodyguard, I’m coming as your—” Echo cuts themself off as soon as their brain catches up with what they planned on saying.

Signet steps up before them, standing toe to toe. She grasps their chin hard enough that a gasp slips from their lungs as she forces them to look up at her. “My what, Echo?”

They can feel their pulse straining against her touch, beating rapidly beneath the tips of her fingers pressing into their skin.

“Say it, Little Flame.” It's a plea as much as it is an order. _Put this thing that neither of us has named into words._

They lick their lips, gathering the courage to meet her challenge—the intensity of her stare, the warmth of her body against theirs. "As your _partner_ , Signet."

She kisses them with bruising, desperate force, her hand curling around the back of their neck as she pulls them up to her.

Echo steadies themself against her hip, smoothing their thumb over the swell of her cheek as she slowly releases them from her embrace. "I'm going with you. You don't have to do this alone."

"I wouldn't ask you to risk yourself like this."

"You asked me to be your bodyguard and I took the job with the knowledge that I would eventually have to put myself at risk for you," they remind her, and she laughs, ducking to press her forehead to their shoulder. They rub the back of her neck and rest their cheek against her head. "Besides, this has Ballad written all over it. He'll be there, and I'll get him to see the truth—or to at least try to consider it."

"You must know by now that's not why I asked you to be my bodyguard." Her arms twine around their waist and she takes a breath. "But thank you."

They didn't actually know that, but they can remember the overwhelming curiosity of her gaze those times when they first met.

The two of them stand like that a moment longer before Echo finally lets out a sigh. "Let me get dressed. Then we can go. I'll meet you at the hangar bay"

Signet lets them go, and Echo moves away. But not without one last, lingering kiss as they say, "Don't leave without me, or I'll just have to get Even and the other involved in this."

She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

Echo moves back to the divan to grab Elegy before heading out of Signet's rooms into the dimly lit halls of Thyrsus.

Once they make it back to their own room, they change quickly out of the clothes they had been sleeping in—having claimed the robe and cami from Signet as their own, and a pair of shorts that actually fit them. Their hand lingers over their uniform coat hanging up on a peg on the back of the door.

They grab their old jacket from the closet instead and shrug it on as they scoop Elegy back up and shove their feet into their boots.

On the way to the hangar, they find Signet lingering just out of sight of the doors. She studies the guards posted out front with a frown.

"Problem?" Echo asks in a low voice as they approach.

She nods in the direction of the guards. "Even's doing, no doubt." She lets out a breath. "Not wanting to let anyone in or out without knowing.

Echo doesn't doubt that they would be able to knock out the guards, but the chance of an alarm being raised, or more guards being inside the hangar itself, is extremely high. "What do you want to do?"

"We'll take Belgard."

"Wait, what—?" Before the rest of the question can even formulate, her arm curls back their waist.

There's a disorienting sensation as it feels like the wind is squeezed from their lungs. It's a different feeling than the last time she took them to Belgard, and there's a moment where they panic—wondering what might be different, might be wrong.

The cockpit of the Divine glows with systems in a powered down state, but they hum to life as soon as Signet's feet land. There's a welcoming pulse of warmth through the Divine, and Signet closes her eyes for just a second.

But then she's moving again, grabbing onto the silks and pulling herself up. "Hold onto something, Echo," she warns when she's about halfway up.

Belgard offers them a grip, and they twist one arm and leg around the silk just before the Divine lurches into motion.

Echo lets out a startled yelp as they are knocked into a wide arc, swinging freely as the force of movement catches up.

Overhead, Signet pulls on the silks like levers—twisting and flipping with an ease that Echo envies. She uses the momentum of her swings to propel Belgard forward, fingers conducting a dance as lights flicker around her.

When they realize that she's preparing a route, their heart jumps into their throat with the implication of where they are going.

"You've known," they call up to her.

She doesn't answer, but there's a tightening of her jaw in response.

"This whole time, you've known where Privign is?"

"I don't know what you want me to say to that," she says defensively.

"Just the truth?"

Her sigh whispers through the cavernous space of the cockpit. She slows to a stop, mirroring Echo's pose with one leg and arm holding her aloft. "I've known for some time where Privign is. Or perhaps I've only had a hunch. I've never gone to confirm."

"And you're certain that they want to revive it?"

Signet turns her face towards the large window, even though it is still dark outside. The only thing she can probably see is her reflection. "That is the only theory that makes sense."

Their stomach turns, knowing that with Belgard's regenerative abilities, or even Signet's to an extent, Advent might be able to put it together faster than if they tried to understand Gumption's blueprints.

With a Divine of their own, they would be on even footing with the States.

With Signet or Belgard either out of commission or under their sway, they would finally become the dominant power on Quire.

Echo clenches their jaw and begins to haul themself up.

Signet watches them, a little startled, but her expression softening into gratitude as they reach her level and position themself on the silk beside hers.

They reach for her hand.

She takes it, and together, they watch the dark landscape outside slowly fade into a sickly pre-dawn grey.

* * *

[[Gun violence at end of chapter, denoted with ******* as warning]]

The gloom never abates, even as they head north towards the location of the fallen Divine.

Belgard pulses with worry, and Echo can feel her concern reverberating in their chest each time they glance at Signet. By this point, Belgard created another swing for them to sit in so they didn’t have to keep clinging to the silks.

A nervous sort of anxiety settles in their bones.

She keeps her hand in theirs, and her gaze on the various screens with Belgard's systems.

It's nearly an hour by the time they reach the drop point. Echo has no idea how long it would have taken if they had used a transport, or even where they are in relation to Thyrsus.

There are heavy clouds cluttering the heavens, and they block any sort of sign that Echo could use to figure out the location.

Signet speaks in a low, soft voice to Belgard, pressing her hand gently to one of the silks. And then, lifting Echo's hand to her lips, she presses a kiss to the back of their knuckles and the two of them are suddenly on an outcropping of rock.

Belgard is nowhere to be seen.

Echo takes a few steps forward—moving as far as they can until their grip strains against Signet's arm. "Is this... Where Privign is?"

Her eyes are just as cloudy as they sky overhead, troubled and frustrated. But eventually she nods. "It is buried somewhere here. I don't know the exact location, but I could. If I need to. I..." She closes her eyes and and passes a hand over her brow.

Echo returns to her side. "We don't have to do this," they whisper, brushing the wisps of hair away from her face as they lean in, pressing their nose against hers. "The Cadent would understand."

"Oh, Little Flame," she breathes, and they ache at the sound of her voice. "This is so much more than that."

Before they can ask her for clarification, Signet pulls away and starts walking down the incline towards the rocky basin below.

Shouldering Elegy with a sigh, Echo follows after.

It's oppressively silent as they go. The scuff of stones beneath their boots rings like gunshots, and their breathing rattles in their ears.

Signet reaches the bottom mere seconds before them, but they're immediately on high alert as her feet hit flat ground.

"Lady Excerpt, let me go first," Echo calls after. "You should stay here while I do a review of the perimeter."

Luckily, she doesn't argue or react to the way that they switch to her title. It's easier for them to approach this like her bodyguard, knowing that there is a conflict for them to tackle instead of having to worry about this woman who means too much for them to put into words. "There is no one here but us." Despite her reassurance, it doesn't ease the tension from her shoulders.

They want to argue, but there is certainty in her tone. Writing it off as some sort of weird Excerpt thing, they let it go and fall into line beside her.

Signet walks confidently into the basin, head held high.

Something in the air wavers the further in she goes, and a shiver passes down their spine.

 _The feeling of someone walking over your grave_ , Ballad use to say with all the gravity of an older brother imparting wisdom to his siblings.

Echo draws Elegy.

Signet stops when she hears the rasp of the blade emerging from its sheath, casting them a quick glance.

They gesture for her to stay close, and she lets them move the half-step in front of her as they continue the slow advance onward.

They only get a few more meters before Signet reaches out and catches onto their arm. "Someone's here," she says, her brow furrowed. She says it in a way that means someone was there that shouldn’t have been here—or that had not been there just a moment before. Confusion races across her brow as she strains her senses to their surroundings.

They round a boulder and there's a tall, broad shouldered woman standing in the middle of the space. She wears a heavy, decorated coat draped over her shoulders, and her silver hair hangs loose down her back.

At the sound of their cautious footfalls, she turns. Her arms are folded over her chest, and a pleased smirk works its way onto her face. "Excerpt," she says as Signet's voice catches in her throat. "It's been awhile."

"Will—" Her voice is barely a whisper, but it breaks into small shards as her chest heaves.

Echo's stomach drops as they recognize the profile of the woman standing before them. They've only ever seen her on posters, on the small screen that their parents had. Never so close, standing like one of the stone monoliths in the clearing.

Signet's hand falls from Echo, and she takes a hesitant step forward. "I thought you died."

"You were supposed to, Love." Will lets her arms drop back to her side, and though her posture softens, her expression never does. It remains sharp, almost cruel, as she regards Signet’s approach.

"Why—? I had... Oh, Will, I've never stopped mourning you." Signet eliminates the distance between them in three quick steps. Her hand lifts, and Will closes her eyes as Signet's palm presses to her cheek. Signet's breath hitches, and her shoulders shudder as her other hand comes up to cup Will's face. "I've come here for a myth and instead I found a ghost."

There's a moment, then, that Will's demeanor shifts, bends, and she almost leans into Signet's touch.

There's an intimacy between them that Echo realizes with a painful clarity. _I felt her loss so strongly on my heart_ , she had said that time they sat together inside Belgard.

She tried to argue that they had drifted apart, but in this instant, Echo knows that it isn’t completely true.

But then it's gone, and Will takes a step back and the hardness in her eyes returns. "Excerpt Signet, I've come to take you to Advent." Her eyes jump to Echo, as if noticing them for the first time. "You've brought a guest. That’s a bit inconvenient. I can't bring both of you."

"Where's the Cadent?" Echo demands as Signet pulls herself upright.

"Why, you're here for an exchange?" Will puts her hands on her hips, her coat billowing behind her like a cape. "Come to trade your precious Excerpt for the Cadent?"

Echo's anger flares brighter in their chest, and they settle into a defensive stance with Elegy before them. " _You_ were my Excerpt back when you cared about the Tides. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore since you left it to die at the hands of Advent."

For a second, a stuttering heartbeat, surprise crosses Will's face. "Oh. _Oh_. You're Ballad's little sibling," she muses, and Echo tightens their grip on the hilt of the sword to keep themself from hurling it at her out of petty frustration. "I thought you were working for us."

"I'm not," they bite out.

Will laughs, a full-chested, delighted sound. "No. Obviously. And listen, don't accuse me of abandoning my Divine when you're standing here alongside Excerpt Signet."

Echo can't stop themself as they move to close the distance—to put themself in front of Signet, to _stop_ Will from talking.

There's a hand on their arm, tugging them to a stop before they can get further.

Signet shakes her head, still unable to tear her pained gaze away from Will. "Where is the Cadent Under Mirage?"

"Safe," Will says, lifting one hand to study her nails. "Away from here."

"I came on the presumption that she would be offered in exchange for myself."

Will makes a small sound, as if she had just found something extremely interesting. "I do believe the exact wording was _in exchange for her life_."

Signet's jaw tightens, and Echo can feel the fury radiating from her. "Such small differences in words. You would play with an innocent's life like that?"

"She's not an innocent, Love—"

"You don't get to call me that," Signet spits. "You gave that up when you refused my messages."

Will spreads her arms in a mocking gesture. "And still you mourned me anyway." Before she can say anything else, a blue sash lashes out and knocks into her stomach—winding her, doubling her over.

Signet yanks it back to her side.

"Always a surprise, Excerpt," Will grumbles. "I was going to take you to her, and let you see that she was okay before sending her back to Thyrsus, but if you insist—" She starts to lift a hand, fingers ready to snap, but both Echo and Signet shout, "No!"

A satisfied smile settles on Will's lips. "Good. Now." Her other hand drops to her hip and too fast for Echo to track, she pulls out a hefty pistol. She swings it up to point square at their head. "Echo, you have a choice: Stand in defense of Signet _despite_ knowing how likely she is to abandon you to save herself, or return to Advent, to your brother, and those of us who will support you. I will not carry dead weight back with me, and I don't have the patience for people who refuse to see the value of a fair bargain.”

"Will, don't—" Signet wraps her sash back around her hand, but doesn't look prepared to throw it. "I'll come with you. Just leave them out of this."

Will's eyebrows go up as she looks between the two of them. "What's this? You've found someone else to trick into pitying you? Do they remind you of me—the accent, perhaps, or the skin tone? You like something different from what's offered in the usual pleasure house—"

Echo reacts first.

They can feel Signet's muscles tensing, coiled tight and ready to spring.

So Echo reacts first.

They shove her behind them as she lashes out with her sash. Her attack goes wide, and she stumbles over her own feet.

Will fires off a shot, but it misses as Echo ducks out of the way. She swears and has to load another round into the chamber. She brings up the gun too slow to aim, so she uses it to catch the arc of Elegy before it can connect with her side.

The sash coils around Will’s wrist, and Signet tugs hard enough to force Will to release her grip on the gun. Echo kicks it aside as they step up inside Will’s guard.

They twist the hilt of their sword in their hand and jab the pommel into Will’s chin. Her head snaps back from the force of it.

But then she twists her hand around the sash and gives a vicious return tug. Her free hand reaches to the small of her back and pulls out a dagger. She swings wildly, forcing Echo to retreat.

Will plants her foot and twists, reeling Signet in. She flips her grip on her dagger to tuck it against her forearm as she delivers a backhanded blow.

Signet collapses, losing her hold on the sash as Will pulls free.

Echo lunges forward with practiced grace. Elegy is not strictly a finesse weapon, but years of practice have taught them the sword’s intricacies. They cut Will’s hand, and she drops the dagger with a yelp of surprise.

They press the advantage, maneuvering closer to Signet, placing themself in front of her. From the corner of their eye they can see her stirring, pushing herself upright with a hand to her temple. “Just go, Excerpt Will. You’re not going to get what you came here for.”

Will regards the tip of the sword aimed at her chest for a moment before the surprise dissolves into a delighted, feral grin. “What would your brother say if he could see you now?” she laughs, and she tugs a second gun free from a hidden holster.

Anger boils, turning into a growl at the back of their throat. Echo lunges again, but this time, she’s faster.

She deflects the incoming attack with her injured palm, not even wincing as the blade bites deeper into her skin. Will pushes Elegy aside and stands her ground.

Echo moves with too much momentum, unable to stop, and they barely manage to hold onto Elegy as she rams her shoulder into their chest. They stumble, fall, and struggle to get air back into their lungs.

Will’s smiles drops away altogether as she lifts the gun. “And actually, it’s _Captain_ Will, now.”

 ******* “Don’t—” Signet, voice shrill, panicked, _terrified_ , reaches for Echo.

Will ignores her. Thumbs back the hammer.

They can’t tear their gaze away. The barrel fills their entire line of vision.

She pulls the trigger. There’s an explosion of pain across their face.

Everything goes white.

And then everything goes black.


	20. Chapter 20

Echo loses sense of time. Of the edges of themself, and they seem to stretch to the ends of existence. No beginning, no end, just ceaselessly expanding.

Floating, in and out.

There are periods where their expansive self is a field of pain. That there is nothing else except spikes jutting through the pieces of them. Set aflame. Unable to find the point to come back to.

There are periods where there is nothing. They think so, at least—the pulses in between. A calm. A numbing blankness.

The pain is’t a switch, but it’s how they track that there is still a piece of them left.

On off. On off. On off on offonoffonoff

It slows, eventually. Longer periods of floating, weightless, stretched endlessly, unwilling to pull themself back together.

The edges of them return, eventually.

They begin to feel something other than pain and nothing.

A hand, a touch. Soft, cool, pleading, _Echo, please, don’t leave me._

A hand, a touch. Gentle, tender, _I’ve got you. I’ve got you I’ve got you_.

 _A lover’s touch_ , they think, wondering why that’s familiar.

Eventually. They sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

When Echo comes to, the world lists dangerously to one side. The room is blanketed in a soft darkness, and it takes them a moment to realize that they’re in Signet’s bed. The opulent covers are pulled up to their chest, resting over them with a heavy comfort that keeps them feeling grounded.

Pale, pre-dawn light filters in through the large windows, brightening as the seconds roll into minutes. They turn their head to find Signet perched on a window seat, gaze distant as she peers through the gauzy curtains.

She’s in her dressing robe, the blue silk spilling out around her like a waterfall, cascading down the seat onto the floor. It slips from one shoulder as her hands rest limply in her lap. Her hair hangs loose down her back.

They try to say something, but it comes out more like a tired wheeze than anything. So they lick their lips and try again. “Signet…?” Their voice cracks—from disuses, from emotions, they aren’t too sure.

Her head whips around, expression immediately melting into relief as her eyes focus on their face. “Echo—” She swings her feet around, planting them both on the floor, and tries to stand. But she seems unable to find her balance, and drops back down onto the window seat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—” The words feel too heavy for a simple apology.

Echo flails about with the covers, hands missing several times. Their breath catches in their throat on a mounting twinge of panic before they finally find purchase and free themself. “What happened?”

"I..." Her expression wavers as she watches Echo swing their feet over the edge of the bed. Her shoulders drop and every inch of her seems to want to collapse in on itself, barely holding together. "I was so scared."

"Signet—"

She holds out a hand, and they stumble the distance between the bed and the warmth of her grip without hesitation. Signet twines their fingers together and presses her lips to their palm. She exhales a sigh, breath ghosting across their skin. "I'm so sorry. I never meant for it to go like that."

"Signet, what happened?"

When she looks up again, they notice that one of her eyes is a cloudy blue instead of the usual clear crystal.

Echo shifts their hand to turn her face into the thin morning light and kneels down alongside her. "Did Excerpt Will do this to you? When she hit you?"

Signet closes her eyes. "No... No, Echo, I'm fine." She lifts a hand towards them, and they flinch away when it leaves their line of sight. Still, she presses her palm to their cheek. "You almost..." She stops. Visibly can't force out the words. Tries again. "You won't be able to see out of your left eye for awhile."

They freeze, and slowly close their right eye. The world goes fuzzy and dim, only a hazy blur of colors barely visible.

Echo can't breathe.

Hand shaking, heart struggling in the confines of their ribs, they press the tips of their fingers to their face.

There's a dull throb of pain, the ridge of scarring.

The memory is indistinct, but it brings a wave of nausea with it.

"I did what I could," Signet whispers as she leans in to press her forehead to theirs. "I thought I was going to lose you."

They remember that. Vaguely, distantly, in another world filled with pain.

Signet's tear-stained face, half-visible. Red on her hands as she tried to staunch the blood. Their blood, they realize, a strangled sound leaking from their closed throat. "What _happened_?"

"Echo, I can't. I don't want to remember that." She seems to draw in on herself, one hand clutching their shoulder, the other lifting to her face. "I did what I could, but I didn't know if that would be enough. I—"

"What did you do?"

"The only thing I could: I gave a piece of myself so that you would live."

It all starts to line up, slowly, achingly obvious. "So your eye—?"

"You will heal," she goes on, ignoring their question. "Give it a few weeks, maybe a month. You will be able to see out of that eye again."

"But _your_ eye."

She hesitates, then shrugs. "Eventually it will come back. Sometime after you have healed. Maybe even once you have died and left me." Her voice is detached, indifferent. She turns away, and lifts her chin a degree. "Do not worry about me. It was a small price to pay."

"Signet, I have to worry about you." Before she can get the chance to speak, they tilt her face towards them and cut her off with a sharp kiss. She makes a small noise and melts into them. Their hand curls around the back of her head, and she kisses them with a desperate force. "Signet, my whole life has just been... One person after another telling me how to fit in. What I needed to do to be accepted."

Their parents, their teachers. Their own damned _brother_.

She keeps her eyes closed, expression pained as they run their fingers through her hair.

"You were the first to... actually _listen_ to me. You didn't ask anything of me that I wouldn't willingly give."

A strangled noise wrangles its way between her lips, and Echo pulls themself up onto the seat next to her as she buries her face into their chest. "Don't say that," she says, even though her hands cling to them—unwilling to let them go, unwilling to let them leave her touch. "I asked so much of you before you even knew me."

"And when I was given the choice, I chose you."

Signet doesn't even try to hide her tears. She wraps her arms around them, pulling herself as close as she can muster. Echo clutches at her robes hard enough that their knuckles turn white, but it doesn’t stop the shaking.

* * *

The physician confines Echo to bed for a few days after they wake up. Signet stays close at hand, partially so that she can keep them in her line of sight at all times, and partially because she still has a hard time standing without getting dizzy.

The first time they noticed, they wrote it off as simple exhaustion. But it lasts more than a day, and when they bring it up, she says that it’s merely an after effect of using too much of her powers.

“A small price,” she reassures them.

The only people who come into Signet’s room are Even and Bluberri. Both bring updates of the status of Thyrsus, but there are still too many gaps in Echo’s memory for them to know if this news is good or bad. The three of them have perfected stoicism, and their expressions give nothing more away.

A little over a week after waking up, Echo gets out of bed and heads back to their room.

Signet lets them go without saying anything.

Elegy is propped against their bed, and their jacket hangs on the peg by the door. Their sleep clothes, which they had left thrown onto the bed when they came back in a hurry to change, are now folded neatly on the mattress.

They don’t know what they expected.

Something to be different. Something to be _more_ —monumentally changed in some way, the same way they feel they have changed.

The mundanity of their room is more upsetting than it is reassuring, so Echo grabs their uniform coat and leaves.

* * *

The thing that is different: People stare at them more now than they had before.

Before, they were an idle curiosity. The person that the Excerpt picked as her bodyguard, but nothing else beyond that. No one knew their past, or what circumstances even brought them to Thyrsus in the first place.

Now, people know them as the person that the Excerpt had been willing to break herself for.

(They learn, eventually, from Even, about what had happened. A disjointed recounting, but it’s easier to parse in that form.

Will’s shot was true, but Signet was faster.

A shield took the brunt of the impact, and was the only reason Signet was able to get to them before it was too late.

She took them straight back to Thyrsus. Even nearly tripped over her when she suddenly appeared in the hallway with Echo in her arms. He sent for Bluberri to bring the physician and tried to do what he could to help.

Eventually, Even had to drag her away.

Eventually, Echo stabilized.)

(“Echo,” Even says after he finishes, and they brace themself for the reprimand.

_You shouldn’t have let her go. You shouldn’t have engaged the enemy. You should have taken more precautions._

But then Even’s hand lands heavy on their shoulder, clasping them warmly and fondly, and he says, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”)

(Echo doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing.)

* * *

The thing that is different: People have a hard time looking them in the eyes. Eye? They haven’t lost the one, but there is a puckering scar that is red and angry and a vivid reminder of what happened.

Their depth perception is off, and they’ve found themself clipping corners as they try to move about any space.

When they bring this up, the physician offers them an eyepatch.

“It will help as your eye heals,” he explains.

Echo doesn’t ask who it helps, because the answer wouldn’t make a difference in the end.

* * *

Signet had been prescribed a lot of bed rest, but she has a hard time staying still. Almost as soon as she is able, she gets to work. There are people constantly at her door, and she’s taken on the responsibilities of the Cadent in addition to her own, and the ones she was covering for Blooming as well.

She does it all without complaint.

She does it all without any sort of emotion.

Paper after meeting after signature after handshake. An endless cycle, starting earlier, ending later, until Echo is afraid that she’s going to pass out.

“You need to give yourself a break,” they tell her one night.

“These are the results of my actions,” she replies, and her thumb smooths across the line of their cheekbone. “I have to make sure it doesn’t crumble.”

“There’s a lot of people who are capable of keeping it running for a few days without you, and I’m sure every one of them would agree with me that you need to rest.”

She’s silent, her thumb continuing its motion across their cheek.

Echo leans in to kiss her, and even that is enough for the tension in her shoulders to ease. “What can I do to convince you?”

There’s hesitation there, in every line of her.

So they kiss her again, pushing her back into the mattress, enjoying the way that she relaxes beneath their touch.

Until, finally, she sighs and laughs—and Echo never realized how much they had missed that sound until just now. “Alright, you win.”

“I knew I could get you to see reason.”

“You’re very persuasive,” she hums, and they can feel her smile form as they kiss her. “A weekend trip, perhaps? Just you and me?”

They don’t even pretend to think about the offer. “Extremely ideal.”

“Then let me get everything in order, and next weekend, I’m all yours, Little Flame.”

Echo’s heart flutters and their cheeks warm beneath her touch. “And you have to promise to not push yourself so hard until then.”

Signet nods, her fingers pushing back through Echo’s hair and tangling around the strands. “I would hate to have to call off our plans.”

“I’m glad that I’m such an excellent motivation,” they murmur before she pulls them down to her.


	22. Chapter 22

Thyrsus resumes wandering, in part to put distance between where Advent last found it, and in part (Echo is convinced, though Signet denies) to make it more difficult for dignitaries and politicians to track the city down.

The city ambles close to a mountain range, and from there the two of them take a transport the rest of the way. There is, Signet explains, a little cabin in the mountains that Tender still frequents even after she took up a permanent residence on Thyrsus. It’s been unused for several months, and might be quite dusty, but is removed and quiet.

They arrive early afternoon, after a brief hike from where they park the shuttle to the cabin. It’s been a long time since Echo’s been out wandering through natural landscape, and they have a hard time keeping to the path as their eyes sweep through the forest.

“It’s beautiful up here,” they breathe, enjoying the crisp air tinged with the scent of dirt and pine needles.

“You’ve said before that you liked to explore around Perigean, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, but that was… ages ago. Before I started getting in trouble.”

“We’ll have the time. You’ll be able to wander all about the place.” Signet turns and holds out a hand to them, helping them up a small ledge they almost run into.

Once their feet are steady alongside hers, they look up to see the small, unassuming cabin. It looks worn, but intact.

Hand still in theirs, Signet leads them over. She has the keys from Tender, and she lets them into the cabin.

The rooms are sparsely decorated. Curtains are closed over the windows, and there’s a small dining table with two chairs close to the door. Within the main room is a bed and a dresser, but little else. There is another door on the side which leads to a washroom, and a small kitchenette through an archway.

They spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the place—opening the windows, dusting and sweeping, putting linens on the bed. The movement feels good, stretches out their muscles after the extended bed rest.

The last thing they do is get the water running again, and Signet declares the cleaning finished so that she can relax in a bath.

“Then I’m going to go explore around outside. Is there anything I can do before that?” Echo asks.

Signet shakes her head, a small smile in place. “Just be sure you don’t get lost.”

“Lady Excerpt,” they tease, “I’ll always be able to find my way back to you.” She goes pink, and they lean up to give her a kiss—though they pull back a moment later, making a face. “You taste like dust.”

“Funny, I was going to say the same about you.” She kisses them again, and again and again until they think that they will be perfectly content to stand in the middle of the room kissing her.

But eventually, she draws back far enough to smile and say, “I’m going to go relax in a bath now. I’ll see you later in the evening when you get back.”

“Mmhm,” they reply, not even really paying much attention to her words at that point. “Sounds great.”

“I think it will be.”

Echo lingers where they are, and Signet makes no move to leave either.

Finally, she laughs and sighs. “Echo, are you waiting for me to ask you to take a bath with me?”

Their brain catches up to the moment, and they feel the tips of their ears going red. “No. Sorry, no, I wasn’t—”

“Because if you _were_ , I might suggest we save that for another day. I have a much larger tub in my room on Thyrsus.”

Echo groans, covering their face with their hands. “I’m sorry, that literally was not what I was thinking about.”

Signet wraps her hands around their wrists and presses a kiss to the back of their fingers. But she doesn’t say anything else as she draws away and disappears into the washroom, closing the door behind her.

They linger in the room a moment longer until the sound of running water gets them moving again.

Outside, the air is brisk but the sun is warm. They stretch their arms over their head, enjoying the movement with a satisfied sigh. While Thyrsus is beautiful and spacious, walls formed more by plants than by actual wood and stone, it’s still a large, enclosed city. Everywhere you go, there is the faint but persistent hum of mechanics and always the sense of motion.

Being on solid ground, face turned to the sun, is the one thing they miss about the simplicity of childhood.

Echo spends close to three hours wandering the forest around the cabin, clambering up rocks and jumping small streams. Birds follow their path, flitting overhead with curious tweets as they go, and Echo whistles back.

They keep their eyepatch on to avoid getting dirt in the still-healing wound. The pressure of it over their face is easy to ignore, but lingers as a gentle reminder.

* * *

It’s getting dark by the time they make their way back to the cabin.

Signet sits in one of the chairs at the table, somehow managing to make the simple piece of furniture look like a luxurious throne even while in her dressing robe. Her feet are propped on the chair across from her, and her hair is loose down her back. She looks up from the book that she’s reading when they enter

Something on their face must give them away, because her smile softens and she sets the book aside. “You don’t look so tense anymore.”

“Oh?” They shake their hair out of the ponytail it had been in, lifting an eyebrow. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

She holds out a hand and they move to her without prompting. Her arm curls around their neck as they lean in to kiss her—one hand braced against the back of her chair, the other against the table.

Echo pulls back far enough that she has to arch her back off the chair to steal another kiss. Her legs adjust to keep her balance, and the robe slips to reveal the expanse of her thigh. They shift their hand from the table to her leg, hesitantly letting the tips of their fingers follow the path of her robe—sweeping from her knee up her thigh, marveling at her shiver and the way she gasps against their mouth.

Braver, they slide their thumb down the inside of her leg.

In the silence of the room, it’s impossible to miss the shift in her breathing.

Their lips hover just over hers, maintaining the distance as she tries to strain closer for a kiss.

They pull their hand away from her leg, and cup her face with both of their hands. “I’m going to wash off all this dirt,” they force themself to say, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

They leave _and then we can talk about this_ unspoken, but she seems to understand all the same.

Echo doesn't let themself try to read her expression when they turn away. Instead, they kick off their boots by the door and cross to the washroom without another moment’s pause.

With the door closed at their back, Echo takes the opportunity to study their nervousness. They knew what the implication was when they invited her to take a weekend with them to relax. And it’s not completely unfamiliar territory, but still the blush comes at the memory of the softness of her thigh beneath their hand, of her uneven breath at their touch.

They shove that all down to figure out later, and focuses instead on filling the tub and stripping off their sweaty clothes. Signet must have taken the liberty of unpacking while they were out, because they notice that their robe hangs on the back of the bathroom door and both of their bags of toiletries are out on the small vanity counter.

It’s easy to fall into a sense of a routine. They fasten back their hair with one of Signet’s pins, and grab one of the wash cloths on their way to the tub. They scrub the dirt from their skin, channeling their nervous energy into the motion.

Their skin is rubbed pink when they finally crawl out of the bath, but they move with a newfound confidence. They dry off and pull on their dressing robe, knotting the tie loosely around their hips.

Echo stands in front of the mirror for a moment, studying their reflection. The skin around their left eye is still an angry red, but they can already see the improvement in it from when the first woke up. They lift a hand to trace the edge of it, then take a steadying breath and roll their shoulders back.  

Signet looks up when they open the door to the washroom. She had relocated to perch on the edge of the bed, robe pulled demurely back in place, and had braided her hair while they bathed. “Echo, I—” she starts, then drops her gaze back to her hands. “If I made you uncomfortable, or I was being too forward—”

They let out a soft huff of laughter as they close the distance between them. Echo tilts her chin up so that she turns her eyes back up to them. Her left eye is still cloudy, mirroring their own injury.

Echo smooths their thumb over her cheek, then follows the line of her jaw so that they can trace the shape of her lips. “Signet, do you remember what I said to you back on your birthday?”

There’s a question in her gaze, but she lets them lean down to kiss her.

They set one knee on the mattress beside her thigh, and she scoots back to give them more space. Echo straddles her lap, pulling back from the kiss with deliberate slowness, letting their fingers track the lines of her throat, teasing the collar of her robe. "You are one whole that I wish to learn and love every inch of. Will you let me?”

She makes a small sound in the back of her throat, and she looks up at them through lowered lashes. “Yes,” she says, her lips grazing Echo’s neck where it slopes to their shoulder. Her hands go to the tie of their robe, easily unfastening it, but not pushing it aside just yet. “But is this what _you_ want, Echo?”

“Yes,” they answer simply, and she slides her hand beneath their robe, her long, slender fingers teasing across their chest. The rest of their answer is murmured against her lips as they kiss her. “I want this. I want _you_.”

Signet wraps her other arm around their waist and, in one fluid motion, turns them around and pushes them onto the mattress.

Echo shifts their thighs around her hips and pulls her down with them, and she follows without hesitation.

* * *

Echo comes to in bits and pieces—lazily drifting up from sleep as a beam of pale morning light splashes across their face. The gentle birdsong drifts in through the open windows on a breeze, and Echo can’t remember the last time they felt this at peace.

There’s a lazy heaviness to their limbs, the bone-deep satisfaction at the memory of her touch—the memory of her fingers, her mouth, her kiss. They would be perfectly content to lie here all day, wrapped in nothing but sheets still warmed by their bodies.  

A muffled sound floats up from the bed beside them, and Echo finally forces their eyes open. Degree by degree, they tilt their head to the side on the pillow and find themself staring at Signet, still asleep.

They tilt their chin on the pillow, watching her face in the early morning light. They’ve seen her asleep before, and she does tend to look more unguarded. But this is the most at ease they’ve ever seen her.

The image of serenity, they think, reaching out to brush stands of gold from her forehead.

Her eyes remain closed, but eventually, a small smile ticks a the corner of her mouth. “Yes?”

Echo doesn’t respond right away. They let their hand trace idle patterns across the planes of her stomach—feeling the paths of muscles and juts of bone.

A soft sigh escapes her mouth, but still she lies with her eyes closed.

“Has your opinion of me changed since when we first met?”

“Not really,” she admits without hesitation.

Echo’s hand stills, and they pull back. “Oh—”

Signet doesn’t quite giggle, but it’s a close enough description. “You were so beautiful then,” she says, eyes finally fluttering open. “You still are, of course. But I remember when we first met. When they put handcuffs on you and were taking you away. There was a fire in your eyes. One that said, _I have defied you once, and I will defy you again_.”

“And you thought it was a good idea to let me be your bodyguard?”

She laughs again, and Echo can’t help the compulsion that leads them to kiss her neck. “Would that they burn you and break you, ensure that you burn brighter of your own volition,” she says, as if quoting something. “I admit that I didn’t want you to burn through yourself. I wanted to see what that fire would do if given a space to flourish.”

“So that’s what you meant?”

“Hmm?”

“When we went looking for Privign, and I said I would put myself into danger for you. _You must know that isn’t why I asked you to be my bodyguard_ , you said.”

Signet’s expression falls a bit, and she reaches out to cup the side of their face. “I had no better excuse to try and keep you close. I never thought it would come down to… to what happened then. You know that, don’t you?”

“You know that I would do it again, don’t you?”

She leans in to give them a feather-light kiss. “Don’t say that.”

“Signet—”

“I didn’t know what I would do if you had died because of my actions. I’ve already lost… so many, that to lose you too…” She takes a shuddering breath, eyes squeezed shut. “So please. _Please_. Don’t ever think your life is worth so little that you would throw it away.”

They remember what she said to them back in _The Gilded Butterfly_ , the evening after they had seen Empyrean. The way she questioned their self-deprecating remarks that they hadn’t even realized they were saying. _Do you really think so little of yourself?_

And now, even though they mean every word it would be a little contradictory of them to be so willing to throw themself into danger for her, after they accused her of doing the same thing.

“Alright,” they breathe, their fingers dancing across the line of her brow, chasing the strands of sunlight over her skin. “I promise.”

When she opens her eyes to meet their gaze, the smile softens her expression. A sigh escapes her lips as their fingers trace the shape of them. Her touch grazes the back of their arm, soft and cool, and she catches their wrist before they can pull back. She presses a kiss to the base of their wrist, and they can feel their pulse stutter in anticipation beneath her lips.

Her kisses trace their vein up to the heel of their hand. Her teeth nip at the muscle, then soothes it with a kiss. She leaves another and another against the palm of their hand, slow and lingering and indulgent in the privacy between them.

Echo curls their fingers, brushing them against her lips, over her cheek, locking their hands together to pull her hand towards them.

Signet moves to follow their touch, shifting off the mattress, hair cascading over her bare shoulders and pooling on their chest.

They lift her hand so they can press a kiss to her palm as well, and she returns the teasing drum of fingertips against their cheekbone as they reach up for her. They tangle their legs with hers, and her fingers press to their jaw.

Their grip shifts around her neck, cradling the back of her head as they bring her in for a kiss.

* * *

The weekend passes in the same lazy, indulgent fashion.

Signet seems to have mostly recovered, beyond the discoloration in her eyes. Her energy returns, and the tension that had plagued her for months has fallen from her shoulders and the corners of her eyes.

Echo has taken to leaving off the eyepatch, trying to ensure that their bad eye doesn’t become too weak. They still worry about Ballad, wondering what his role in the last few engagements with Advent have been, but they keep those concerns pushed to the back of their mind.

After that brief conversation their first morning, politics do not come up at all. They talk about anything else they can think of. From the book that Signet is reading (a predictable mystery, but she enjoys the series), to Echo teaching her the morning stretches they’ve been doing since their days at their parents’ school. They trade stories of past jobs, of places they’ve been, and people they’ve met.

Echo enjoys every minute of it.

* * *

The last day there, Echo decided to take a midday nap before they would have to make the effort to clean. Signet elected to go out for a walk, and they wake some unknown time later to her still not back, but the forest outside hums with the same life it has the last few days, and there is still plenty of sunlight left.

Echo rolls out of bed in just their shorts, not even bothering to try and hunt down where their shirt might have gone to. Their hair is a tangled mess, and they spend half a minute arguing with a brush before making up their mind.

On silent feet, they step into the washroom and pull the standing mirror into the bedroom. A short perusal of the kitchen reveals a knife that looks sharp enough.

Elegy is too big for what they need, and because of the sword’s specialized sheath, they’ve never had need of a whetstone.

Echo plops down onto the floor in front of the mirror and considers their hair for a moment before gathering it into a clump in their hand. They take a breath, setting the blade against the underside of the strands.

It’s not nearly as easy as they hoped it would be, and involves a few minutes of awkward sawing and chopping before the last of the length is cut away. It rests roughly over their shoulders, and definitely _looks_ like it was hacked off with a blunt knife, but they feel lighter already.

They’re staring at the fistful of hair when Signet returns.

She says something in Thyrsian that they can’t quite get but is very clearly a swear before hurrying over to their side. Dropping down onto her knees behind them, she gasps, “Echo, are you alright?” Her hand lands on their wrist, and they realize that one hand still grips the knife.

They let her take it, watching her in the mirror. “Oh. Yeah, I’m… Fine, actually.”

The look she gives them is hesitant, but not doubtful. “You cut all your hair off.”

“Yeah.”

She considers them for a moment, and they turn away from their reflections to look at her directly. “I’ll help you touch it up when we get back to Thyrsus.”

They’re not too sure what they expected. Their parents always had such a strong reaction whenever they cut their hair when they were younger, and eventually Echo simply kept it longer than they liked, too, just to spite them. But it became as much a part of their identity as their sword, or their jacket.

“I figured it was time for a change,” they finally say. “There’s been… so many other big parts of me shifting. This was the last part of old me.”

Signet brushes her hand against their shoulder blades, dusting off pieces of hair. Then she slips her fingers through the strands, combing them out and letting her nails tease against their skull. “It’s a good decision you made.” She pauses a beat, continuing to run her fingers through their hair. “Everyone is going to lose their minds when we get back.”

Echo laughs and leans back against her shoulder. “I definitely look like I got in a fight with a hairdresser and lost.”

“Maybe it was a tie. A hairdresser would never leave it in such a state.”

“Okay, I know it looks bad, but come on.”

Signet laughs as well and presses a kiss to their jaw. “You look perfect,” she murmurs, smiling. “Welcome to the next chapter of your life, Echo.”

They meet their own gaze in the mirror, and like that they can recognize the person staring back.


	23. Chapter 23

There’s a low sound of commotion outside of the transport when they return to Thyrsus. Echo has the two bags slung over one arm, Elegy strapped across their back, and a general air of hesitation hovering around their shoulders.  

Signet sits with her hands in her lap, expression placid, but Echo can see the tension in her posture.

They reach across to give her hand a gentle squeeze, and she accepts it with a small nod.

Echo gets up and moves to the door of the transport. It slides open beneath their touch, and a hush falls over the people gathered in the landing bay. Echo doesn’t recognize a lot of them, but judging by the pen and paper many tote, others with small cameras—and even Gig, in the back of the crowd, his own camera to his eye—they can guess these people are some variation of reporters.

They take the first step down, then turn to offer a hand to Signet.

She takes it with grace, and steps from the transport.  

A cacophony of voices rises up almost immediately, though her expression remains calm and collected. Echo manages to pick a few out of the chaos as they lead her across the platform towards the inner network of hallways.

“Excerpt—Lady Excerpt—Your Grace—We heard about the attack—Do you have anything to say—Advent has made an outrageous claim—A lost Divine—Your Ladyship—The Cadent—What do you plan on doing about this?”

Gig’s voice rings out over the others as they approach him. “How are you feeling after all of this?”

Signet stops and turns to face him. She’s no longer letting her hand rest in Echo’s, instead gripping it like a lifeline as she keeps her face stoic. But at Gig’s question, her expression softens just a bit, a private look just for him. “My heart aches for what has happened, but we must keep carrying on despite adversity. It is the way of the States to face insurmountable odds and come through the other side with our heads held high.”

Questions are launched in her direction again, but she says something to Gig in Gambish, and he nods in understanding.

With that, she pushes open the door to the halls and slips in through it. Echo follows after, and when they close the door, the voices are reduced to a muffled chorus.

Signet stop once on the other side, and they pick up the pace to catch up with her. Her jaw is set, mouth in a solemn line, and much of the ease they had seen in her over the weekend is already gone.

Echo doesn’t say anything. They fall into place alongside her, their hands brushing together but neither of them reaches for the other. It’s enough, though, and she walks without flagging.

They reach the back door for Signet’s office, and Echo pulls it open for her.

Even and Bluberri are already in there, anxious expressions on both of their faces.

“Your Ladyship,” Bluberri says as soon as she takes her spot behind her desk. “You sure did pick an inopportune time to—”

She holds up a hand, and they fall silent. “Gig will be joining us shortly.”

“He what—?” Bluberri is cut off again as a knock sounds from the office door, and they frown as they move to open it.

Gig bursts in with his usual dramatic bluster, but the easy smile he normally sports is replaced with a look of concern and frustration. “I _promise_ that I wasn’t the one who did it,” he says immediately when Bluberri and Even turn glares on him. “Swear on the Divine, you’ve been reviewing all my footage.”

Signet casts a quick, confused glance back at Echo, which they return with a shrug. “What happened while we were gone?”

The other three exchange uneasy glances.

“It’s _your_ area of expertise,” Bluberri grumbles, nudging Gig with their elbow.

Gig sets his camera down on one of the chairs and holds up his hands in a sign of innocence. “Advent released a statement two days ago about the attack.”

Signet’s hands clench into fists on her desk, and Echo’s injured eye throbs at the memory. “Which attack?” she asks carefully.

“The one at your birthday. Though, I guess, they also did sort of mention that they have a Divine now, so a lot of people are confused and concerned.” Gig hesitates, then takes a step closer to her desk. “They don’t have Belgard, do they?”

She sighs, but her hands don’t relax. “Belgard is safe. They must have dug up Privign after we left.”

Even grunts, folding his arms over his chest. “But they still don’t have it up and running?”

“Not that I know of, no.” Signet’s head dips forward, and lets out a soft breath before she sits upright. “If they plan on using Gumption’s schematics, it will take them some time to interpret them and figure out just what it all means.”

Echo clears their throat, and three pairs of eyes turn in their direction. Signet remains facing forward, but they know that her attention is on them. “You said that they released something about their attack on the Excerpt’s birthday? Did they mention anything about the Cadent?”

Even shakes his head, hands falling back to his side. “Unfortunately not. It was... “ He pauses, looking for the words to use, and Bluberri cuts in.

“A damned mission statement? A declaration of war?” They toss their hands into the air and shoot a glare at everyone around them. “They want the States to stand down. They didn’t _ask_ for Your Ladyship to hand over the Divine Belgard, but they might as well have for the language that they used.”

“You know,” Gig starts slowly, rubbing a hand over his chin in thought. “Perhaps, before I release my documentary, we could do an interview…?”

Signet’s shoulders stiffen, and she starts to sort through the papers on her desk to keep her hands busy. “What kind of interview?”

“A comeback!” Gig says enthusiastically.

“A response,” Bluberri says with far more control. “It’s a good idea to consider, Your Ladyship. Advent has attacked what we stand for, and they have attacked you directly.” Their eyes bounce to Echo for a beat before falling back to Signet. “They are promising our people the most appealing thing right now: Stability.”

Signet’s goes still, her hand pulling free a single envelope from the pile. She doesn’t seem to have heard what Bluberri said.

“Your Ladyship?” Bluberri tries again. “This is very important—”

But then Echo catches sight of their name on the envelope, and they recognize Ballad’s handwriting, and it takes every ounce of self control to not snatch it from her hands.

“I understand,” she says, dropping the letter as if it burned her. “Gig, I will consider the offer. I did not think that man plans for the future were ready, but they are ensuring I do not have the luxury of time. So I will consider it.”

“That’s great!” Gig scoops his camera back up and offers her a confident smile. “I’ll start prepping some interview questions, and you just let me know when you’re ready.” Then his eyes switch to Echo, and his eyebrows go up as he says, “Nice haircut.”

Echo frowns, uncertain what exactly he means by that, and toys with the uneven strands between their fingers.

Even moves to usher Gig and Bluberri out of the room. “Lady Signet, please let us know the next course you would like me to set. Until then…” He gives her a pointed look before closing the door behind the three of them.

This time, Echo doesn’t hold themself back as they scoop up the envelope. “What the fuck?” they breathe, studying the familiar handwriting and trying to ignore the way their gut clenches at the sight of it. There is no return address, but it’s postmarked from the southern end of Anticipation from a few days before they left on their trip.

It would be a useless lead to follow.

That doesn’t stop them from wanting to try anyway.

Before they can even open the envelope, though, Signet’s breath catches and they glance down at her. Their eyes immediately spot the second envelope, the one sporting the Reverie School letterhead, and Echo feels the ground give beneath their feet.

They catch themself on the desk, and Signet’s arm is quick to steady them. “That’s my—” they try, struggling for air, struggling past the sounds of the last fight they had with their parents before they stormed out of the house. Struggling against the tears that threaten to take over. “My sister’s writing…”

It’s more clumsy than Ballad’s, but loops and swirls and it makes their heart ache to see it again.

They save that one for last.

Instead, they open Ballad’s letter, bracing themself for the reprimand that it will undoubtedly hold.

_I heard about what happened with Captain Will and I can only hope that this letter reaches you._

_You’re making a mistake, Echo. I hope you realize how dangerous it is in your position. There was no reason for you to have been involved, and you suffered for it._

_I can’t protect you if you’re with the Excerpt. I don’t know what to tell the rest of the family if you’re with the Excerpt._

_Think about if this is really where you want to be. There’s only so many more times I can try._

_— B.R._

They don’t bother folding up the note after they read it. They shove it angrily back into its envelope before balling it up and throwing it at the door in frustration.

Signet says nothing as they open Legato’s letter.

_Echo—_

_Honestly? What the actual fuck? You leave without saying anything and I have to keep trying to convince Mom and Dad that you’re okay even though it’s been almost two years and then you pop up on the news reels with the Excerpt?_

_What are we supposed to think? No, honestly, because I don’t have a clue on what happened in the months in between._

_I know that you had been with Ballad, and that was easier to explain. But now he pretends like he hasn’t seen you in years and it’s all sketchy ‘they’re off doing their own thing’ or ‘I don’t know I haven’t seen them around’ and like? Does that mean you are still with Advent, just in a different department? Did you leave? Did you die and he wasn’t saying anything?_

_And then suddenly you’re popping up in the background of pictures and clips of the Excerpt that Advent shows during this news statement about some kind of public declaration against her._

_Come home. At least for a few days. Or just write a fucking letter so we know you’re okay._

_Two years, Echo. You can’t think they’re still mad at you._

_Love, Legato_

They read the last line again. And again and again and they don’t even realize that they’re crying until Signet’s arms wrap around them. Echo sinks to the floor, and she goes with them.

* * *

Echo delivers the coordinates to Even.

He looks at them, then, brow furrowed, back to Echo. He takes a breath, ready to say something, and Echo braces for the question.

But in the end, Even shuts his mouth and nods. “I understand.”

“There’s no rush,” they force themself to say. “She doesn’t want it to be obvious.”

“I will do my best,” Even says, turning back to the controls as he starts to input the coordinates—a series of buttons and levers, using both his hands and his hair with an ease that never ceases to amaze Echo. The ship shudders beneath their feet, and there’s a gentle sway as it alters its course. “Should we request an official welcome when we arrive?”

It’s his way of asking for an explanation, but giving Echo an excuse if they don’t want to offer one.

They’ve learned a lot over the last few months. Trusting Even is easier now than it had been when they first joined the citizens of Thyrsus.

So Echo shakes their head. “There’s a small personal detour first. The Excerpt and I won’t be gone long, but we’ll leave ahead of Thyrsus. That way the Tides will be able to prepare for the Excerpt’s arrival.”

“Alright.” Even inputs a few more commands before turning to face Echo. He lifts an eyebrow in question, again leaving it up to Echo to answer if they want to.

“I will be returning with the Excerpt,” they say after a pause. “So don’t worry about rearranging your guard rotations to provide her with a new bodyguard.”

His posture relaxes just a degree, but for Even, that speaks bounds. “Glad to hear it. We should be there by the end of the week.”

“I’ll let the Excerpt know.” Echo starts to turn away when they hear Even let out a tired, but amused, sigh.

“You can call her ‘Signet’, you know,” he says. “At least around me.”

Echo gives a huff of laughter, running their hand back through their hair. The ends have been cleaned up now, and they’re still getting used to the length. “It’s a work in progress,” they confess, and Even gives a knowing chuckle.

“It always is with her,” he agrees.

They consider this for a moment. “I’ll have the time to figure it out.”

Even’s smile softens, and he nods, once. “Yeah. You will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you can read this [little hair-care ficlet in context](https://lady-mab.dreamwidth.org/332131.html)


	24. Chapter 24

The week it takes to make it up north to where the Tides went to ground is filled with prep work for the upcoming interview.

Bluberri and Gig allow to let Signet take the trip personal trip so soon on the tail end of her other on the condition that she sit for Gig’s interview. The three of them sit in her office, discussing the points he wants to go over, and the plans that Signet will be willing to reveal.

Echo takes to pacing the entire city.

Tender and Fourteen still aren’t back, but a report arrives a few days into the journey with information on a strong lead for Advent’s location. They promise to keep investigating. They promise to be careful.

Echo paces the length of Thyrsus, and wonders just what they should say to their parents.

* * *

"Are you sure you want me to come?" Signet asks one night, curled up against their side. Her arm is draped casually over their chest, and they can feel her attention on them even in the darkness of the room.

"Of course I do."

"This is supposed to be a moment for you and your family. My presence will make things awkward."

Echo laughs, the sound muffled into the pillow. "You're the reason that I'm able to even go home." Before she can ask, they roll over so that their forehead presses against hers. "I've changed a lot these last few months. A lot of it is due to working with you."

"Don't give yourself so little credit."

"I'm not. You gave me a space that I could thrive in. You said it yourself."

She sighs softly, and they can feel her breath against their arm. "I'm still the Excerpt."

"Would you prefer it if I address you as such while we're there?"

Signet makes a sound that is close to a huff of displeasure and part of a laugh. "Do you want me there as the Excerpt? Who took you in after she arrested you, and made you her bodyguard?"

"No, not really."

"But that is how they will see me."

Echo presses a soft kiss to her cheek—then another and another until they find her lips. "I want you there as my partner."

They can feel her smile beneath their kiss, and her hand shifts up to tangle back in their hair. "I like hearing you say that."

"My partner," they say again, then, lower, "my love." Their hand traces the shape of her, her softness and her warmth. "My divine."

Signet's gentle moans are lost in their mouth, and Echo swallows them down eagerly.

* * *

The school looks exactly like it did when they left. Two years older, the grass a little long, but the walls stand as tall and strong as ever.

Echo doesn't know what they expected—for it to be bigger in their memory, or perhaps smaller. For it to look _different_ instead of exactly the same.

They lead Signet around the side of the school, which is silent and devoid of students for the moment. It's still early afternoon, plenty of day left, but there would have been early classes so that the rest of the day could be free. The cobbled path is worn and free of weeds, and Echo watches the stones pass beneath their boots with a removed sort of curiosity.

Signet's hand is in theirs, her golden skirts catching in the bright sun. Her presence warms them, makes it easier to move when their parents' house comes into view.

It sits in the shadow of the school, but still has enough light spilling across the front garden that plants thrive beneath window sills and around the walkway. The roof looks weathered, and there's a new patch on one end, but its familiarity strikes Echo in an almost physical way.

Echo stands before the door, uncertain of how to proceed.

Signet gives their hand a squeeze and adjusts the collar of their uniform coat. "Whenever you're ready," she says, lips grazing their cheek.

They take a breath, square their shoulders, and lift their hand to knock.

There's the sound of their father calling from inside, muffled through the walls, and their sister's voice raised in an indignant response.

"Coming!" Legato calls and suddenly Echo wishes that they had more time to prepare, that maybe there's still the chance to back out, that maybe this wasn't such a good idea—and then the door opens and they're staring right at their sister's face. Her eyes widen as soon as she realizes who she is staring at.

"Hey Squirt," Echo finally manages, voice cracking as they put a lopsided smile onto their face. Before, they hadn't been able to look her directly in the eye. In their memory, she was always small, always still a child, but in their memory, Ballad was still there and nothing was wrong. "You got taller."

"Dad? Mom?" Legato shouts over her shoulder, but is unwilling to pull her eyes away from Echo. As if they might disappear the moment she blinks.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Fugue asks, rounding the corner to join her daughter at the door. Before she can get the next question off, she spots Echo, and she becomes a mirror of Legato. Her hands lift to her mouth, stifling the sharp intake of breath. "Oh—" Fugue starts, and when she reaches for them, Echo moves without hesitation.

She gathers them in a tight hug, her arms just as strong and encompassing as they had always been.

Litany's heavy footsteps come down the hall as well, and he grumbles something about no one saying what was wrong.

Echo tries not to cry, because they're wearing the eye patch and they're not too sure if letting their parents see their injury is the best way to start the day. But they pull away from their mom's embrace and offer their dad a watery smile before he moves to catch them up in a hug as well.

Eventually, Echo pulls back, sniffling and rubbing the trace of tears from their cheeks. "I hope it's not a problem that we dropped by without saying anything," they mutter, ducking their head.

"'We'?" Litany asks.

Echo steps aside and holds out their hand for Signet, who stands on the porch in polite silence. "This is my partner, Signet."

She takes it and drops into a delicate curtsy. "We're sorry for the intrusion."

Fugue and Litany stare in shock before instinct takes over. "Of course. It's not a problem. Come in, make yourselves comfortable—" They gesture everyone inside, but before Echo can get too far, Legato grabs onto their elbow and pulls them to her.

"That's the Excerpt of Belgard." It comes out more like a question than a statement.

Echo struggles to maintain an aloof composure instead of a flustered blush. "Yeah, and?"

" _She's_ your girlfriend?"

They bite the inside of their cheek. "It's not quite like that."

Legato narrows her eyes, but doesn't let go of their elbow. "Then what is it like? I thought you were her employee or something."

"I am. But like I said, not quite like that. It's more than just me being her bodyguard or her being my girlfriend." Echo turns when they hear their parents talking in the other room, tripping over themselves to accommodate the sudden appearance of the Excerpt. "I don't know what else to tell you."

She frowns but releases them. "What happened to your eye?"

This time, Echo is unable to keep their expression schooled. "An accident."

"Is it like, _gone_?"

They nudge her, and a hint of her grin returns. "No, don't be gross."

"Just checking," she teases.

Together, the two of them move into the dining room.

Signet is in the middle of trying to reassure Litany that she is perfectly fine when they enter. "You have a very lovely house. I don't require anything, thank you."

"But—"

"Dad," Echo says with a tired sigh. "It's cool."

He looks to Echo with lifted eyebrows and Fugue cuts in. "We could make up a room for you, Excerpt, or if there's anything you need—"

"Mom! It's fine!" Echo moves around the other side of the table to stand beside Signet. "We don't know if we're going to be staying, but if we do, we can just share."

Their parents exchange a look of shock, and Echo isn’t too sure if it’s the implication of the extent of their relationship, or just that they would allow the Excerpt to sleep in anything less than a perfect room.

"Please don't think that you have to do anything out of the ordinary because I am here," Signet cuts in. "I don't mean to impose, and honestly, I don't require anything special. Treat me as you would another of your family."

"Well!" Litany starts, then jumps as he turns towards the kitchen. "Oh, the stew—!" He makes a quick exit, Fugue on his heels speaking in low, rapid Tidal (hoping there would be enough food, or if she should run out to the store).

Echo purses their lips and glances up at Signet. "Just one of the family, huh?"

She smiles coyly, reaching out to toy with their hair. "It would be a nice change in pace for me, I think."

Before Echo can respond as they lean in for a kiss, Legato—who they forgot was standing by the doorway—makes a gagging noise, and gives an impish grin when Echo turns a glare on her.

“Come on, let’s go see if they need any help,” Echo sighs. They lead Signet to the kitchen, pointing out things along the way. A story about the series of marks on a doorway, of the little nook between the hall closet and the pantry door, of the floorboards that groan beneath their boots.

The kitchen is as crowded as it always is—bags across the counters, practice weapons tucked in corner by the side door, the video screen on and playing the news at a low, almost imperceptible level beneath the sounds of cooking. The smell of spices floods the space, and Echo’s stomach nearly growls at the memory of the meals they ate in here.

“Oh, good, Echo: do you mind taking over stew duty? I’ve only just started, but if you’re able to take over, then I can make the bread,” Litany asks, looking up from the stove. “Do you remember how to make it?”

They let out a huff of laughter, shrugging out of their coat and draping it over the back of a chair. “Of course I do.” They roll up their sleeves, then gesture for Signet to join them. “Would you like to learn the secret family recipe,” they ask in a mock whisper, if only to enjoy the way their dad tutts from the other side of the kitchen. “You have to promise to not tell anyone, though.”

“I shan’t tell a soul,” she agrees.

The afternoon passes in a comfortable whirl. Signet helps prepare the stew, sticking close to Echo’s side. Her presence is reassuring, and it helps them fall back into a familiar rhythm with their family.

Litany tells bad jokes, and Legato makes an appearance to tell the start of one story about Echo before they go and chase her out. Fugue drills Echo on their memory of forms and positions. They move about the kitchen in an easy chaos, and Signet fits in like she had always been there.  

At one point, Legato returns to smack Echo on the back with one of the practice swords, and all hope of continuing working on dinner is abandoned as they move to retaliate. Echo scoops up a practice sword of their own and takes off after Legato as she escapes through the side door.

They’re in the field behind the school, and Echo is so overwhelmed by nostalgia that they slow to a stop and simply take in the view.

Legato moves to smack them again with the sword, and they just barely block. “You’re form is sloppy.”

“I’m out of practice.” Echo studies her stance a moment before saying, “How is the school doing?”

“Good. It’s just me and Mom, most of the time. Dad helps sometimes, but…” She looks like she wants to say something, but swallows it down. “You’re not going to stay, are you?”

Echo barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not.”

“You’d pick her over your family?”

“You really want to do this _now_?” they ask, testing the weight of the practice sword in their hand. “Go into all the reasons why here is not good for me?”

Legato frowns, averting her gaze back towards the house. “What happened to your eye?”

They tighten their grip on the hilt so that they don’t reach for the eyepatch. They weigh their words, debating which answer to give before settling on, “Advent.”

She flinches, and that reaction is telling enough on its own. Guilt, understanding, putting the pieces together.

It’s not a secret that Ballad went to work for the Society. It was less known to the family that that’s where Echo had eventually found their way, but they have no doubt that Ballad had told their parents.

There’s a big piece of the puzzle that Legato doesn’t have and doesn’t ask for.

So Echo offers a compromise. “Just _try_ talking to Signet. She’s nothing like what we thought Excerpts were like.”

“I think you have a biased opinion.”

“Then see for yourself.”

Legato tilts her chin defiantly and advances the few steps to close the distance between them. “Maybe I will,” she challenges, thrusting the sword into their grip and stalking back towards the house. “Hmm! I wonder what sort of stories I should tell her about you!”

Echo groans and follows after. “There’s got to be _something_ better to talk to her about than me.”

“It’s our common point of interest—oh!” Legato reels back on the step when she almost runs into Signet.

Signet reaches out to catch onto Legato’s elbow before she can lose her balance. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s perfect, we were just talking about you.”

Tossing a teasing grin in Echo’s direction, Signet says, “I’m sure they have many things to tell you about working for an Excerpt.”

Legato leans casually against the doorframe, blocking Echo’s access up the stairs and back into the house. “More like I was going to see if you wanted me to finish that story I was trying to tell earlier. You know, about how Echo lost their two front teeth at the same time—”

They groan loudly, and Signet’s eyes go wide with amusement.

“I would love to hear it. But Fugue asked for you to help with the table. So, tell me while we work, hm?” Signet takes a step back into the house and holds out a hand to her.

With a grin, Legato takes the offered hand, already talking a mile a minute about the story.

Still groaning, Echo follows after—dragging their feet in mock protest.

Litany looks up from his spot at the table in the back of the room. “We’ve moved your coat to the entry closet, and your mother is currently attempting to dust your room to make it presentable.” There’s an ever-so-present edge to his voice, but his expression is decidedly calm.

“We don’t even know if we’re staying…”

“You can’t expect the Excerpt to sleep in a dusty room.”

Echo bites back a sigh. “She has a meeting early tomorrow morning,” they say, which is the excuse the two of them decided on when deciding their plans for the visit. Signet arranged for Gig’s interview to be live just before Thyrsus officially reached the Tides, so they would have a good reason for not staying if they didn’t want to. “I’ll go tell Mom she doesn’t have to.”

Litany shakes his head, but puts a tired smile on as he leans back in the chair. “You know how she is. You can tell her that, but it doesn’t mean she’ll listen.” He reaches over and pulls out a chair beside him. “Sit with me. We haven’t seen each other in awhile.”

They move awkwardly across the kitchen. Now it feels unfamiliar without the activity, just the sounds of the appliances adjusting to the heat and the stew bubbling faintly. From the other room, they can hear Legato and Signet’s voices. “What do you want to know?”

Their dad sighs and runs a hand back through his hair. Echo can’t help but wonder when he started to look so old and tired. “Anything, Echo. Two years without a word and then you show up on our doorstep in a fancy coat, an eyepatch, and the last Excerpt. Tell me anything.”

Echo licks their lips, mentally navigating the last few months and flagging the things that are safe to talk about and won’t cause more questions. And, slowly, they start to tell their dad about Thyrsus.

* * *

Echo is kicked out of the kitchen when their parents start to make the final preparations, and are told to go relax and wait.

They move into the dining room, letting their fingers trace over scuffs on the wall and worn handles. The dining room is silent, save for faint humming, and they arrive to find Signet at the far end of the table, a bundle of silverware in her hand.

“You don’t have to set the table. I can do that,” Echo says, crossing over to join her. “You’re a guest.”

“I don’t mind. This is your family. I want to be able to offer my thanks in any way that I can.” Her voice is soft and thoughtful as she works. Even dressed down as she is, she fills the space with her presence.

Echo can’t look away, even if they wanted to.

They hook their elbow over the back of a chair, leaning into Signet’s space as she reaches the final seat. “I think you’ve really won them all over. Legato especially.”

She does a poor job at hiding her smile as she places the cutlery down with deliberate precision. “Oh? I was hoping that I would win over just one person, specifically.”

They laugh as they catch her around the waist. “Lady Excerpt, you should know by now that you have my heart.”

The smile blossoms fully in place, and she leans into them when they lift a hand to her cheek, guiding her down for a kiss.

She accepts it willingly, and they enjoy the unhurried surety behind it. The sounds of their parents in the kitchen, the comfort of their childhood home, the rightness of the moment.

Distantly, they’re aware of the sound of the front door opening, then slamming shut. Of a heavy footfall. Of a voice calling, “Sorry, hope I didn’t miss anything,” and then there’s Ballad. Standing in the doorway of the dining room.


	25. Chapter 25

Echo freezes, uncertain of how to react. Every nerve in their body goes still.

Signet reaches up and takes their hand. She turns her face away as she twines her fingers between theirs, anchoring them.

But Ballad knows who she is—Echo can see the knowledge and recognition written all over his face.

The silence stretches out awkwardly until, at last, Ballad says, “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah,” Echo snorts, and Signet grips their hand tighter. “You know, after Excerpt Will shot me in the face, I thought it was time for a change.”

They watch the tension work through Ballad's jaw before he shrugs out of his jacket. "What are you doing here, Echo?"

"Everyone seemed to think I should come home. So I thought I'd stop by for dinner."

"With the Excerpt?" Ballad doesn't even try to disguise his tone, and his glare goes right through Echo. "I didn't realize how close you two are."

Their body goes taut, but Signet places a hand to the small of their back and leans in to whisper into their ear. "Not now, Little Flame."

They let out a huff of breath and slowly release their grip on Signet. "It's good to see you again, Ballad," Echo says, turning to face their brother head on.

Ballad doesn't quite flinch at the sight of the eye patch, but he busies himself with hanging up his coat. "A lot has happened."

Litany comes out of the kitchen first, a confused smile on his face. "Oh, Ballad! You're right on time. We were just about to start serving dinner. Go wash up and find your sister. We'll get another place for you."

Echo pointedly does not offer a hand to make another place up. Instead, they pull out the chair for Signet and another for Fugue when she enters carrying the salad and freshly baked bread.

"When did you get to be so well-mannered," Fugue teases as they help her set down the food. She places a fond kiss to the side of Echo's head. Her smile brightens when Ballad arrives with Legato in tow. "Oh, good, I thought I heard your voice."

"You know I hate to miss these dinners," Ballad says, returning her hug. He doesn't have to look in Echo's direction for the jab to be felt.

An awkward silence follows that Legato attempts to break by dropping into her chair with a loud sigh and reaching for the salad.

Litany returns with the large pot of stew and starts to serve it, and that acts as enough of a distraction for the chatter to rise back up.

Signet keeps a gentle flow of conversation with Fugue and answering Legato's questions about being the Excerpt. Echo knows that she must be doing the same sort of mental flagging that they did in their conversation with their father earlier. Avoiding touchy subjects, avoiding the political side of things. She's far more graceful at it than Echo is, so they leave her to do most of the talking.

At the other end, Ballad updates Litany on the Society's movements, though he also leaves out the parts where they actively attacked the States. Perhaps that was at another dinner, closer to the time that the events actually happened.

While Echo had to keep a close eye on Signet to ensure she wouldn't do anything rash after Advent kidnapped the Cadent. While Echo was unconscious after Excerpt Will shot them.

While they lived a whole different life on Thyrsus, and their family carried on without them like nothing was wrong.

Echo doesn't realize that they're shaking until Signet covers their hand with one of her own and lifts it to her lips. "Are you alright?" she asks, her voice low enough to not disturb the conversation.

They nod, exhaling through their nose. "Yeah. It's fine."

Ballad's gaze rests heavy and silent on them.

"Okay," Legato suddenly says loudly, cutting in to their little bubble. "I got to know: How did you end up working for the Excerpt?"

Echo knows they should have expected this question, but it still catches them off guard. They look to Signet, and she gives a small tick of her head as if to say _it's up to you_. They clear their throat. "I was, uh... Arrested by the Beloved Dust while on a job in Big Garage," they say.

From the corner of their eye, they can see Fugue's wide-eyed stare as she pauses with a spoon halfway to her mouth.

Across from them, Ballad's silence is nearly deafening.

"I was handed over to Excerpt Signet on behalf of the Cadent, and she gave me an offer: Be her bodyguard, or serve a rotation among the Thyrsian guard." They lift a hand to idly rub the skin beneath their eye patch, and Ballad's non-expression twitches into a frown. "I thought it was an easier gig at the time."

Signet's hand remains on theirs as she says, "They have been a great support for me these last few months. I've come to rely on their counsel, and they have found chances to challenge my way of thought."

Ballad considers the slice of bread in his hand. Casually, as if it's just a simple question for the dinner table, he asks, "And how long have you been fucking the Excerpt?"

Anger lances through Echo, and they slam their hands against the table as the jolt to their feet. "Don't you _dare_ —"

"Ballad, _language_ —" Fugue starts, leaning over to pat Legato after she chokes on her stew.

"It's a simple question—"

"You don't get to ask me that—"

"I don't see why it's such a problem—"

"Why don't you tell them what really happened—"

"Echo, sit down!" Litany has to shout to be heard over the escalating argument.

But before Echo can turn on him, Signet places her spoon down with a heavy _snap_ , and that is enough to make silence descend on the room. She lifts her napkin to wipe her lips, and then sets it down gently on her plate.

"Dinner was delicious, thank you." Gaze lowered demurely, she tilts her head a degree. "Echo, I'm tired. Attend to me."

They don't even hesitate before moving to help her out of her chair. Her hand slips into theirs as they lead her out of the room.

As they pass behind Ballad's chair on their way to the hall, they hear him mutter in Tidal, "Obedient mutt—Ow!"

A quick glance over their shoulder reveals Ballad rubbing his shin as Legato glares daggers in his direction, but then Echo kicks shut the door between the dining room and the stretch of hallway towards the rest of the house.

Signet stops after a few paces, her back to the wall as she covers her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry," Echo starts to say. "Advent must have really changed him. He’s never been that much of an asshole—"

She shakes her head, and when she lowers her hands, they're surprised to see a distraught expression over her features. "He was so rude to you."

"Me?" They're not used to people being upset on their behalf. "Signet, he was just saying those things to annoy me. And I let it work, but you shouldn't have to let it worry you."

"Of course I do, Echo." She reaches out and cups their face with her hands so that she can leave a tender kiss on their lips. "Will insinuated the same thing. I meant what I said. I don't want you to think that I have orchestrated you in such a way."

Echo gives a defeated laugh as they let her pull them in to her embrace. "I know that there were others before me, and I know that there will be others after me."

"Echo—"

They shake their head and lean in to kiss her. "But for as long as you'll let me, I'll be at your side. And that's because I _want_ to be." They wrap their arms around her waist and press their forehead to her shoulder, unwilling to move from the comfort of this space between them.

The door from the dining room opens, and Echo stiffens as they recognize Ballad's footsteps approaching them.

"Your Grace," Ballad says by way of greeting. "I'd like to speak to my sibling."

"I'm not the one you need to be asking," Signet replies cooly, but she loosens her grip on Echo so that they can step back.

They sigh and run their hand back through their hair, hoping to look a little more casual than they feel. "Yeah, alright. Lead on."

Ballad nods and heads out the front door, onto the porch that overlooks the walkway from the school and the path that leads into town. He doesn't say anything as he moves to lean one hip again the railing and turns his gaze out to the sunset.

They fuss with their eye patch for something to do with their hands, but decide against taking it off. It's not a weapon they want to use right now.

Also seeming to have a hard time with the silence, Ballad reaches into his pocket and pulls out a battered lighter. He flicks it open, then snaps it shut. Open, shut. Open, shut. Open—

“I thought you quit ages ago,” Echo finally says.

Shut. “I did. Doesn’t mean I can’t keep the lighter my siblings got me.”

They don’t respond.

Ballad stores the lighter in his pocket, but everything becomes too quiet without its clicking.

"Alright," Echo sighs after the silence stretches on long enough. "You're either here to apologize and tell me to practice safe sex, or to tell me off for any number of things. So which one is it?" They make a small sound, like a thought just occurred to them, and hold up a hand to cut off their brother before he can say anything. "Oh, and if you're _really_ curious, we've only been fucking for about a week, so take that into consideration for your lecture."

His cheeks are a mottled sort of color—both embarrassed and chagrined at their words. "It's not like that," he tries, but Echo scoffs and rolls their eyes. "I'm being serious. You know that I've always had your best interests at heart."

"Have you _really_?" They press a hand to their chest in mock surprise. "Oh, you could have fooled me. Did you know that Lumen thought I was dead or something, the way you acted after my arrest? Or I guess didn't act. Or say. Or anything like that."

"What was I supposed to say to anyone?"

"I don't know, maybe the truth?! Or were you too afraid that the rest of the folks from the Tides who looked up to you would realize that you'd abandon them at the first sign of trouble?" They jab a finger in his direction, but he swats their hand away. "Just like you abandoned your own sibling to the Beloved Dust."

“Don’t accuse me of turning my back on our people,” Ballad hisses. “Everything I have done has been for them. Has been to help you, and Legato, and our friends and family—”

“Nu-uh. Nope. You don’t get to pull that.” Echo is shaking. “You looking out for me was framing me as a fucking red herring while you went off and killed Empyrean. And then you never lifted a finger to try and help me.”

“Looks like you’re getting along just fine now.”

Echo snorts, but doesn’t dignify that with a response.

Ballad starts pacing, his hands opening and closing into fists at his side. "I have to wonder if you understand the severity of the situation at hand. Of the position that I'm in."

"Must be a tough one, ordering your former Excerpt to shoot your sibling."

"I didn't—!" He stops himself, but keeps moving. A restless, anxious sort of energy that Echo can feel in their bones. "I didn't know you were going to be there."

Another snort.

"I'm serious, Echo. I thought you would have had more sense. I didn't realize at the time that you and the Excerpt were—"

They arch an eyebrow. "Fucking?"

He tosses his hands in the air. "Be serious!"

"Hey, your words, not mine. But yeah, huge miscalculation on your part." They smack their hand against the porch railing in frustration. " _You_ were the one that forced her hand in regards to Empyrean and me. _You_ were the one who invaded Thyrsus and kidnapped the Cadent. _You_ were the one who sent Grand Magnificent back with a ransom note. Don't try to blame me for putting myself in harm's way when you'd rather I sit on my ass and 'yes sir' you at any chance."

Ballad rounds on them, fire in his eyes and his jaw clenched. “You know that there’s a war out there, don’t you? Has your Excerpt told you that?”

“Yeah, but—”

“When Captain Will surrendered to Advent, she fought tooth and nail to get every bit of profit from the harvest of Harmony to go back to the Tides. She is doing whatever it is that she can to keep that war off our doorstep. Mom and Dad are safe thanks to her actions.”

Echo throws their hands in the air as they resist the urge to mirror Ballad’s pacing. “And what of Seance when you took down Empyrean, huh? And what of Thyrsus—will you show them the same honor that you showed the Tides if you _murder_ Belgard—?”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Where is Excerpt Blooming then, Ballad? What will you do to Signet when you realize that she’s not going to surrender to you?”

He stands rooted on the deck, feet shoulder width apart and hands clenched into fists at his sides. “The Excerpt Signet is only making this choice for her people the longer she puts us off.”

Echo laughs. A nervous, giddy, relieved sort of sound as they rake their hand back through their hair. “Don’t pin this on her. She will stand against you until you step up and take her down yourself.”

Ballad opens his mouth, ready to retort, but Echo closes the distance between them. Not completely, but enough to catch him off guard.

They drop their voice even though no one else is around to hear their conversation, and their smile sharpens like the edge of a knife as they say, “And when you come, I will be there at her side. You will have to kill me before you can get to her. And that is why I know that we will be safe from you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You wouldn’t kill me.”

Ballad’s jaw works in silent contemplation. “You said it yourself: Advent has changed me.”

They wince, knowing that he must have overheard their conversation with Signet in the hall. “Not like this, they haven’t.” Their tone softens, and their expression falls. “You’re still my big brother.”

He lets out a heavy sigh and leans back against the support post for the porch. "I should have kept you closer. None of this would have happened."

"No, Ballad. I would have just found some other way to fight against you because I was annoyed." They lean against the opposite, considering him for a moment before looking out over the field. "You said..." they start, but the rest of the sentence falters when Ballad glances at them.

Echo takes a breath, tries to say the words, feels them tug sharply at their emotions. "You said that you would always be proud of me," they finally force out, hating the way their voice breaks on the question. "What happened?"

Ballad's only response is a sharp intake of breath and a pained exhale.

The silence drags on, longer, stilted, before Ballad shakes his head, drawing himself out of his thoughts. "The Cadent is safe and well," he says softly.

They pause, considering. It's as much of an answer as they're going to get. "Good."

"There's only so long I can stall, Little Tiger. Whatever you and your Excerpt have planned... You better do it soon."

Something lurches uncomfortably in their chest—a piece of their past, dislodging, freeing itself. Echo closes their eyes and rubs the back of their neck. "Just promise me that you'll listen to what Signet has to say. When her interview goes live, listen to it." They head back into the house before Ballad can respond.

They find Signet sitting at the dining table with a cup of tea between her hands. She looks up as soon as she hears them enter, and immediately rises from her chair to go to them.

Her embrace eases their nerves, and they return it with all the force they can muster.

"I want to go home," they murmur, and her arms tightens around them.

"I'll go get your coat, and you can say your goodbyes—" she starts, but they shake their head and bite the inside of their cheek to keep the hitch of their breath at bay.

"I just want to go."

Signet hesitates, and they can feel her shift, but they don't look up. Her hand moves to the back of their head, carding through their hair, and she presses a kiss to their temple. "As you wish," she replies, and between one heartbeat and the next, they go from standing in their dining room to the cockpit of Belgard.

There's a pulse, a warmth, a question. The Divine worrying over them, but relieved as well.

Then another heartbeat, and they are back in Signet's bedroom on Thyrsus.

It's a long time before Echo is able to let go.


	26. Chapter 26

Bluberri instructs Signet in rapid Thyrsian that Echo doesn’t even attempt to understand, barely pausing for breath as attendants fix her hair and makeup.

She replies where she can, though most of her answers are non-verbal—frowns and huffs of breath at whatever she is told.

Until, eventually, Gig plops down onto the chair across from her, bright grin on his face, and he looks around her office. “Ready?”

Thyrsus is less than a day out from the Tides, and the backdrop seen from her large windows are the northern hills of Quire, soft green with scattered white flowers, the clear blue sky overhead. Most of the light coming in to her office is natural, though Gig had set up a few extra of his own design for the sake of the camera.

When she returns his smile, it practically illuminates the room and rests easily on her face. “As I will ever be.”

Bluberri heaves a sigh as they drop down onto the bench beside Echo. “I hope this goes well…” they mutter.

“You wrote all the topics, didn’t you?”

They cast Echo a glance out of the corner of their eye, then lean back with their arms crossed over their chest. “Yes, but I still worry.”

Echo is inclined to agree, though it’s a general sort of anxiety—not limited to just this interview.

The attendants leave, and soon it’s only the four of them left. Gig holds up his hand for silence, then ticks his fingers down from five and points to Signet.

“Greetings, people of the Divine Free States. I am They Marked Scars of Light in Pitch; Born in Fiercest Purpose, and Beheld as the Signet Sealed Upon our Pact, Excerpt of the Divine Belgard, Governess of Thyrsus, and acting leader of the community.” Her expression is smooth, calm, but she levels the camera with a look that commands attention. “As many of you have heard from the Advent Discovery and Salvage Society’s recent broadcast, there have been disagreements between our two groups. What they failed to mention is that on the night of the gala that was meant to be a celebration of the States and our years together, they invaded Thyrsus under a show of force and kidnapped not only the artist and sculptor Grand Magnificent from Memorius, but the Cadent Under Mirage as well.”

She pauses a beat, her gaze flitting down to her hands folded on her desk. “I am not making this announcement with the intention of declaring war on the Society. While I am willing for peace talks, they have done nothing but attack our way of life and then sell it back to you for a profit. I will be the first to admit that the way we are carrying on is far from sustainable, but they are cutting our time from years to minutes. I am not making this announcement to play a game of we are right and they are wrong—we are both to blame, and it does us no good to ignore this any longer. So please, I ask you just to listen, and when I am done, I hope that whatever choice you make, you are confident in the fact that it is the best for you.”

Signet draws her shoulders back, holding her head aloft and proud. In a steady tone, she begins to paint her vision of the future.

* * *

Echo finds Grand in his workshop, reclining in his chair with his feet propped up on the workbench and one arm draped over his eyes. They knock on the wall as they enter. “Don’t call me here and then take a nap.”

“I’m not napping,” Grand grumbles.

“Ah. Thinking, then.” Echo kicks at a leg of his chair, but it doesn’t budge.

It does get Grand to glare at them from beneath the crook of his elbow before sighing and sitting upright. “I wanted to give you something.”

They lift an eyebrow as he finally swings his legs around and pushes himself to his feet. There’s several pages torn from sketchbooks littering the workbench and pinned to the walls—many of Signet and what eventually became the foundation for her statue, several of Echo and Even and Tender and Fourteen in movement, in conversation, in a moment that flitted past. And then as it gets further down the line, the lines darken, turn into a declaration of force instead of the lightness of thought they had been before.

Echo points to one in particular, a hulking shadow of a thing. “What’s this?”

Grand shrugs as he moves across the space, looking for something in particular on the other end of the room. “Just thinking about Divines a lot recently.”

They’re not too sure which Divine it’s supposed to be, but they leave it as Grand holds aloft the notebook he had been looking for.

“Now, I was thinking about your attack on Advent—”

“Hold up: Our what?” Echo lifts a hand, but Grand pushes it out of the way and flips open the notebook.

“Attack. On Advent.”

“We’re not going to _attack_ Advent.”

Grand gives them a curious look, then lets out a laugh. “Yeah, you will. How else are you going to get the Cadent back?”

Echo makes a small noise in frustration. “Let’s just say that I’m not big on the idea of fighting violence with violence.”

He snorts in response and shakes his head. “You’re in the wrong business for that.”

“I shouldn’t have to be.”

“A bodyguard? Not keen on violence? I’ve seen that sword you carry around.”

“Yeah, and the last time I drew it, I got shot in the face,” they snap, and seeing Grand’s wince, they push a step further. “And the time before that, I stood by helpless as you and the Cadent were kidnapped. So forgive me for being a little hesitant.”

The edges of Grand’s expression soften, and he drums his fingers over the notebook. “You know I don’t blame you for that, right? And I’m pretty certain the Cadent would say the same.”

This catches them off-guard. They hadn’t considered the anxiety that kept them from actively seeking out Grand since his return. “I was there, and I could have done _something_ —”

He gives a disapproving click of his tongue and rolls his eyes. “You want to know why Advent grabbed the Cadent?”

“Because… she’s the leader of the Free States?” they hazard.

“No, it’s because they couldn’t find the Excerpt.” Grand gives them a pointed look and smirks at whatever sort of expression they end up making. “So you did your job. The Cadent doesn’t have any real power, beyond what those in her service have. They wanted the Excerpt Signet for that, and she’s still out of their grasp.”

Echo’s shoulders slump and they rub the heel of their hand over their forehead. “Yeah…”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Grand mocks. “I know I’m right, so this will be easier if you just acknowledge it.”

They laugh despite themself, and this earns them another smirk. “Fine, shit. You’re right, Grand Magnificent, thank you for helping me see the error of my ways.”

“Of course,” he replies, the humility very well rehearsed. “Now, are you going to look at the designs for these explosives that I made or what?”

“Explosives?!” Echo reels back under the force of their surprise.

“Oh, did I not mention why I wanted to talk to you?” Grand opens his notebook back up and holds the sketches in front of their face. There’s numbers and designs and chemical compounds that they can’t even begin to wrap their head around.

They push it aside and glare at him. “I thought you were a sculptor!”

He frowns at the sketch on the page. “I admit that these aren’t some of my finer designs, but—”

“No, I mean why are you designing _explosives_?”

“To use against Advent, of course.” Grand waves aside their protests. “I know, I know: You’re not big on violence. But Captain Gardner and the Excerpt will listen to you if you bring this to them.”

Echo’s voice peters out on a tired sigh. “And why can’t you do it?”

“I don’t know how seriously either of them take me,” he admits candidly.

“And you think I do?”

Grand huffs, but his lips twist into an amused half-grin. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Echo’s not too sure how true that is, but they reach out a hand anyway. “Okay, fine, tell me about your explosives and I’ll go tell Captain Gardner and the Lady Excerpt.”

Satisfied by this answer, he passes over the notebook. “They’re pretty small scale, so they can work as a decent distraction, and only would do real damage if you have a lot of them in one place. If you ask Gig, he might be able to rig up a detonator so you can plant them and set them off at a distance.”

They squash down the unease that rises up in their chest. “Okay.”

Grand flicks the back of the notebook. “I know what you’re thinking—”

“I seriously doubt it.”

“—But they’re not your friends. Whatever alliance you once had with Advent is gone.”

Echo _is_ thinking about that, but more to the point that they are thinking of Ballad and the others from the Tides that followed him. They lift a hand to trace the edge of the eyepatch. “I know. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what?”

“What’s to stop someone else from taking Advent’s place once we take them down? If we act in violence, that will give someone else an excuse to react the same way.”

Grand considers this for a long, thoughtful moment. “Nothing, I guess.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It’s the future, Echo.” He offers a shrug, and Echo snorts.

“I swear on the Tides, Grand, if you say that the future is uncertain, I will punch you.”

There’s a very real look of hesitation in Grand’s expression at that, but then it settles into something like a pout. “I’m not joking. And that’s what’s so wonderful about it, right? It’s uncertain, and random, and unpredictable. No matter how much you prepare for something, the choice in the moment is completely arbitrary.”

Echo stares at Grand for a moment in stunned silence. The laugh explodes out of them sudden and loud, and they bury their face in the notebook to try and stifle the sound. “That was so fucking corny. I didn’t know you were a romantic.”

Grand’s pout only deepens, and he looks away—a blush rising up on the back of his neck. “Listen, I know I’m a better sculptor than a poet, but I was just trying to make you feel better.”

They shake their head, wiping a tear away with the back of their hand. “No, I’m sorry. Thanks, Grand. It did help. It was just… _extremely_ unexpected.” They reach out and clap him on the shoulder. “Really. Thank you.”

Grand mumbles something, still stubbornly turned away with his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, whatever. Just go give that to Captain Gardner so I can know if I need to actually make any.”

“Have you even tested this equation?”

“Nope.”

When Echo grins, it cuts sharp and thin across their face. “Wild and unpredictable future, huh?”

This gets a chuckle from Grand. “Wild and unpredictable.”

* * *

By the time Echo returns to Signet’s office that evening, they find Tender and Fourteen have returned to Thyrsus. The two of them stand before a map, going over the results of their search for Advent’s ship and for Privign.

Signet sits with her hand over her mouth, staring at the diagram in stony silence. Her eyes flicker to Echo when they slip in through the door, but otherwise no one seems to notice their arrival.

“—have a stationary workshop for rebuilding Privign,” Fourteen is saying, one manicured hand indicating to the location on the map of Quire. “It’s near Big Garage, and they’re contracting out a lot of laborers from the Mandati to work on it for them.”

“And the status of the Divine?” Even presses. “How in tact was it when they recovered it?”

Tender huffs and shakes her head. “There was basically nothing. We snooped around for a bit, and they’re building _something_ , but there’s no spark of the Divine in there.”

“Yet,” Fourteen grumbles, but Tender ignores them.

“So… they didn’t even really need Gumption’s schematics, huh?” Echo rubs a hand over their chin, contemplating the images of the workshop that the two provided.

“They will build it a body, then they will give it life,” Signet suddenly says, her voice soft and tired. She sits forward to get a better view of the map, face drawn. “We are left with just two important points: To recovery the Cadent, and to destroy Privign. We cannot do both without splitting up.”

“I vote that we split our forces and hit at the same time,” Even says, leaning in to place markers on the map. “The Thyrsian guard will escort Signet to retrieve the Cadent and—”

“No.”

Even peters to a stop, staring at her in surprise. “What?”

“No, Captain,” Signet repeats, as if adding his title will explain her answer.

He frowns, and looks to Echo for support—but they only shake their head and offer a vague shrug. “To which part?”

“All of it.” She scatters the pieces from the map, clearing it off completely. “We will move with small strike teams. Only the five of us, if necessary.” She sets down five pieces with deliberate care, fingers lingering over the last, though there is no indication of who is who. “I will take care of Privign on my own.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tender cuts in, her tail twitching in agitation. “Fourteen and I will go with you. And no objections!” She points a finger in Signet’s face when she catches the other woman taking a breath to argue.

Instead, Signet lets out a breath, shoulders slumping. She moves three little figures to the garage. “Alright. The Beloved Dust will hit the workshop. The two of you will cover me, and take me to where they are holding Privign. If I cannot salvage it, I must destroy it.”

“That’s too dangerous.” Even snatches back the three figures and sets them down with the other two.

She scoffs and starts to reach for them again, but this time Echo takes her hand in their own as it stretches over the map.

“You and the Cadent are all we have left. We can’t risk you moving into a direct confrontation,” they say. They don’t pull her hand back, but they can feel the way she strains against them. “You need to get in, grab the Cadent, and get out as quickly as you can. You can do that with Belgard’s help, can’t you?”

The fight starts to leave her limbs. “Because I can use Belgard to pull me out of a situation, I can afford to be engage Advent. I need people I can trust to keep the Cadent safe.”

“Then let me come with you to Big Garage—” Echo starts, but she is already shaking her head as soon as the words start to leave their mouth. “Signet, _please_ —”

Her hands shift so that she can brush her thumb over their cheek and twists their hair around a finger. “I want you to save Cadent. Protect her as you would me, Little Flame.”

They hate the way that they can’t argue with her, the way their chest aches at the words left unspoken.

Signet only lets the touch last a moment before she pulls away and faces the others around the table. “Even, I want you and the guard to cause a diversion close to the Advent ship. Tender and Fourteen will serve as distractions in the workshop for me, but I need you covering Echo when they go to save the Cadent.”

He clearly wants to argue with her, but presses his lips together in a thin line. “Understood, Ma’am.”

When she moves the figures on the map, no one tries to stop her.


	27. Chapter 27

Moonlock is, all things considered, a perfect place for Advent’s ship to take up a temporary residence. It’s nestled in the barren northern regions of Quire, sparsely populated with several small townships that sprouted up after the Sky Reflected in Mirrors went to ground. Growing up, Echo knew it more as a myth than a real place.

Far enough from Big Garage that anyone looking would find one but not the other.

Close enough to Perigean and Seiche for Ballad’s presence to be felt in every inch of the place.

A slumbering, forgotten anxiety deep inside their chest jolts away when they recognize the silhouette of the ship through the haze of the early morning. They’re familiar with the shape of it, know nearly every inch of the interior that ship from the time they spent on it.

Even nudges them with an elbow. “You okay?”

Echo lets out a steadying breath and drops their hand to their coat pocket. Three of Grand’s small explosives press against their thigh. Their weight isn’t quite reassuring, but close enough. They will be good to use in a pinch. “I will be. Let’s just get this over with.”

He checks the rounds in his gun. “We’ll get into position. Hold until we give the signal. See you at the end of it.”

They’ve been repeating the plan in their head as soon as they left Thyrsus. “The Cadent and I will be there.”

Even gives them one final look, then nods. He turns and signals to the guards, and they file out of the building and into the empty streets of Moonlock.

Lumen casts Echo a quick glance as they go by as well, but then they’re swept along with the others and out into the foggy morning. The guards disperse into the half-formed shadows, and are lost from view.

Echo closes their eyes and counts out the seconds—a finger tapping against Elegy’s strap where it loops over their chest. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, and listen to the silence of the town. Breathe out, and pinpoint the groaning metal as the heat of Advent’s ship adjusts to the cold.

If they push their fear aside, then they can trick themself into thinking that it’s just like the job that started this all. Get in, get the object, get out.

They run through the plan again. They run through their mental map of the ship. They can’t afford any errors. There won’t be the Beloved Dust, or the Excerpt to offer them a second chance.

There will only be Advent to take them back.

Echo pushes down the lingering trepidation. There’s no time to get distracted.

Distantly, a faint whine pierces the silent air—and when they look, the flare goes off to turn the fog a pale gold.

Their feet move on instinct. They slip out of the warehouse that Even's team had hidden in until it was time to move. Ease the door shut behind them.

A quick glance reveals that the streets are still empty. They don't have a large window before people come to investigate.

Breathe in, breathe out.

A second flare goes off, a darker gold, further into the city. Echo touches two fingers to the flame pin on their lapel, and then they take off running.

* * *

The ship crouches at the back edge of the city—legs coiled, an animal ready to spring at the first sign of trouble. It doesn't rest on the ground, and by the time that Echo reaches it, the belly of the ship has opened up to lower a force of guards to investigate the growing chaos.

Echo wastes precious seconds studying the faces of the figures in white as they descend, but none of them are Ballad.

Once the last of the soldiers is gone, Echo scales one of the legs up to a service port that will let them inside.

The bowels of the ship is nearly stifling after the brisk chill of the morning, but they don't move a muscle after the port door is secured back into place. They consult their mental map, orienting themself, allowing themself the time to double check.

When they were in Big Garage, they let the sound of pursuit make them reckless. They let the knowledge that they completed their mission give them the confidence that they would have backup if they needed it. That if they were caught, it would be just a matter of time before Ballad came to break them out.

He never did.

Echo doesn't doubt that if they were apprehended, there would be an attempt to rescue them. It's a comforting, but also precisely why they can't allow it.

Get in, get the Cadent, get out.

Don't get caught.

They move on careful feet, picking their way through the maintenance corridors and into the lower levels. They have no way of knowing the progress of Even's distraction, or even how long they have. Move quickly, move quietly.

Echo remembers where the cells are on the ship, and moves in that direction. Every so often they have to pause to listen—footsteps moving overhead, rhythmic and organized. Voices over short-range communicators, laced with static and nearly indecipherable, but enough to give a progress update on the reactions to what’s happening out in Moonlock.

Still no sign of Ballad, and they don’t know if they’re thankful or not.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Echo reaches a hatch that lets out into a hall just outside of the cells. They’re scrambling to put together the exit route as they push open the grate.

The cover is ripped from their grasp, and before Echo can react, and hand reaches down to grab them by the scruff of their neck.

They let out a snarl, thrashing against the hand hauling them out of the service corridor. But the other person is stronger, and slams them face first into the metal floor.

“I should have known this would have been your plan,” Ballad growls, and Echo immediately freezes. “I didn’t think you’d be _this_ stupid.”

Echo hopes that the tremor rattling against their ribs doesn’t make its way into their voice. “Turns out you don’t know me as well as you thought you did, huh?” Their hand inches towards the pocket on their coat.

“What’s your game. Echo?”

“Well, I’ve always been good at cards—” The rest of their response is cut off as Ballad’s knee presses into between their shoulder blades, forcing their face further against the floor. They grunt, but use the opportunity to slip their hand into the pocket. Slowly. Carefully.

“Shut up.”

“Fuck off.”

Ballad’s sigh is the sound of a tired older brother rather than a commander of a rival force, and Echo latches onto that. “What are you even doing here?”

“I thought it was obvious?” They still have Elegy, though there is no way they’ll be able to draw it. Just the fact that Ballad hasn’t disarmed them yet. Instead, their fingers wrap around one of the small explosives. “Were you waiting for me?”

There’s a beat when the pressure increases, and Echo’s spine aches in protest, and they think maybe they were wrong.

But then Ballad eases off and flips Echo over so they’re flat on their back. One hand clutches the front of Echo’s coat to keep them in place. He looks tired, annoyed.

He studies Echo’s face, and the conflict is easy to read in the pinched corners of his eyes and mouth.

“Did you listen to Signet’s interview?” Echo hazards, and there’s a flicker in Ballad’s expression. “You get why I can’t go back to Advent, don’t you?”

The moment grows, thick and heavy. One second ticks by, then two, then a minute, and finally, when Echo starts to wonder if they should just find a way to slip out from his grasp, Ballad drops his head.

His shoulders slump and, by degrees, his grip on Echo’s coat eases.

They remain where they are. The only movement they make is to reach up and wrap their hand around Ballad’s. “It’s easier when you don’t know both sides.”

“What’s the point of even picking a side any more?”

“I know you know the difference between them.”

Both the States and the Society have their downsides, but Advent has always been motivated by profit. They would revive a Divine to show that they could.

And then they would kill it all over again, and sell the pieces back to the people.

“You think we’d keep the Cadent in the cells?” Ballad finally says, and Echo almost laughs. “C’mon. Get up.”

The pressure eases from Echo’s chest, and when Ballad holds out a hand to help them to their feet, they take it.

He shrugs off his coat and holds it out to Echo. “Put this on.”

They recoil from the white fabric, pristine against the salvaged metal of the lower levels. “No.”

“Put it on over your other coat for all I care, but black and gold will stand out like a beacon.” Ballad shakes it in their direction. He still has on his waistcoat and pants in all white, but his shirt is a deep blue. His own sword hangs low at his hip, and completes the dashing image he cuts despite the color of his uniform.

Slowly, Echo reaches for the Advent coat. Ballad is taller, with broader shoulders, so it fits on over their own coat and Elegy.

Ballad snorts when he glances at them. “You look ridiculous.”

“Just as well, I never looked good in white anyway.”

When he ruffles their hair, they let him.

Ballad leads them up—through the barrack levels, which are mostly empty of troops. He moves with speed and with confidence, and Echo does their best to mimic his posture.

Chin held high, shoulders thrown back, looking like they are supposed to be there.

No one stops them.

He takes them to the upper levels where visiting dignitaries are housed, where Advent officials keep their offices. As if the Cadent is an honored guest instead of a hostage.

Ballad tips his head at one of the doors as he pulls a key from his breast pocket. He tosses it to them, saying, “She’s in there.”

Echo takes a step, then pauses. “Wait for me.”

Ballad’s jaw clenches, but nods. He positions himself as a guard, hand on the hilt of his sword.

They move down the hall and unlock the door.

The Cadent’s gaze is already on them when they step inside. “Echo Reverie?” Seeing their hesitation, she smiles and rises to her feet. “Signet said you would be here.”

Echo’s fingers stray to brush against the flame pin at their collar. They breathe a sigh of relief and hold out their hand towards her. “I’m here to take you home, Lady Cadent, but we have to move quickly.”

“I understand.” Her movements are delicate and precise, but there is still an underlying urgency as she takes their hand and lets them lead her into the hallway.

Ballad automatically falls into place behind Echo when they reach him. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

“At the moment? Not to get caught.” Echo grins as Ballad rolls his eyes. “Would you mind telling Lumen that we have the Cadent?”

His expression shifts from confusion to understanding. “Did you go into this with the intention of me leaving with you?”

Echo doesn’t allow themself the indulgence of studying their brother’s face. They focus on the path ahead, making their way towards a one of several hiding places they marked on their mental map. “I had hoped, but no, I didn’t factor in you into this.” If they knew they could rely on him, they wouldn’t be here in the first place.

Ballad had known exactly where they would appear, and hinged on the chance that they would come to rescue the Cadent instead of someone else. They trust his change in heart, but they knew they couldn’t count on him staying behind to look for them.

Echo takes a corner too fast to see what is on the other side, and it’s only instinct that gets them to duck as the butt end of a pistol snaps out.

Captain Will steps into their path, flipping the gun in her grip so that both barrels point in their direction. “I thought I had killed you.”

“Not for a lack of trying, Excerpt.” Somehow, Echo manages a smirk despite the cold terror creeping down their spine. They can’t tear their gaze away, and their eye throbs at the memory.

They have to tread carefully. Signet isn’t here to save them this time.

She frowns and thumbs back one of the hammers. “Hands up please.”

Echo holds them out to their sides, showing empty palms.

Will’s gaze shifts to Ballad, and her eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t be helping the Cadent escape, now, would you?”

“Technically, I’m helping Echo escape. They’re the one helping the Cadent.”

Will clicks her tongue in disapproval, and shifts one of the guns to Ballad. “I thought you believed in the Society. I thought you looked forward to the future we were going to make.”

He laughs, and Echo feels him shift his weight closer. Placing himself in front of the Cadent. “I’m tired of picking the Society over my sibling. That was a mistake I made one too many times.”

“We were going to make you a Legion Commander, Ballad Reverie, and you would give that up for a crumbling nation of disjointed states?” Her gaze flicks to the Cadent, and the darkness in her face shifts from annoyance to sorrow to resignation. “Signet has pretty ideas, but she doesn’t have the power to carry them out.”

“You will not be Privign’s Excerpt,” the Cadent says suddenly. “I know that is what you hoped, and perhaps that is why you let them keep me. But I will not allow it.”

Will’s lips curl into a sneer. “I didn’t need your predecessor’s permission when I sacrificed Harmony, and I sure as fuck don’t need your permission now.”

Distantly, there’s the muffled sound of an explosion, and the ship starts to list dangerously to one side. The four of them struggle to keep their footing against the sudden shift in gravity. Alarms go off immediately, filling the halls with a harsh red light and a warning klaxon.

Echo snatches one of the explosives from their pocket and hurls it at Will’s feet. It goes off in a bright flash, forcing her further off-balance.

Behind them, Ballad pulls Elegy free from its scabbard on their back and swings it down in a wide arc. The blade catches the barrel of a gun and tears it from Will’s hand. The weapon slides out of reach as the hall tilts.

Another explosion far below, and the ship starts to pitch downward faster.

Captain Will struggles to regain ground as Ballad hands Elegy back to Echo. “Take the Cadent and get out of here. Take my ship.” He draws his own sword. “I’ll hold her off.”

Echo grabs his shoulder and tries to pull him back. “Don’t you fucking dare—” They’re cut off as a fluttering warmth fills their chest, and for a moment, they think that maybe they got shot again. But the sensation is soft, comforting, like a flame had been lit in the cage of their ribs.

It feels like Signet’s hand against their heart, and their breathing steadies.

The Cadent gives a faint cry, and Ballad and Will turn to look at her.

Echo doesn’t. Somehow, they already know what she’s going to say.

“Privign is reclaimed.” Her voice wavers, but rings clear over the blaring alarms. “Belgard has returned them to the stars.”

Everything seems to slow in that moment, the gravity of the situation shifting. Realization and anger dawning on Will’s face. Confidence lacing through Echo’s blood as they tighten their grip on Elegy. The Cadent, allowing herself the brief second to mourn.

And then Ballad laughs as he puts the pieces together and everything reels forward again. “So that is why the Excerpt sent you in here on your own.” He shifts his blade and offers the tilt to the Cadent. He also reaches out a steadying hand to ensure she doesn’t fall as the ship shudders and lurches beneath them. “I am Commander Ballad Reverie, and on behalf of the Advent Discovery and Salvage Society, I offer you our surrender.”

Will keeps herself upright against the wall, but is unable to advance on them. “You don’t have the _right_ —”

The confidence burns bright in their chest as Echo places themself in Will’s path. They don’t flinch as the gun swivels in their direction. They exhale, slowly, and focus on the embers of Signet’s warmth.

Her aim isn’t steady, and she is braced against the wall in case of a third explosion. But she keeps her gaze locked on Echo.

They plant their feet to keep their balance and lift Elegy so the tip of the sword is against the dip in her throat. “Do you want to see who is faster?” they challenge.

She visibly considers it, her thumb hovering over the hammer.

Echo holds their ground. Does not press closer. Fights back the terrified nerves.

And then Will sighs in defeat and drops her gun.

“The States accept your surrender, Advent,” the Cadent says. She places her palm over the pommel of Ballad’s sword. “It is over.”

Giddy, relieved, Echo sheathes Elegy with a grin. Their heart pounds, blood rushing in their ears in concert with the siren. But for a moment, they block it out and let their fingers brush against the silver pin. _It is over_.

There’s a comforting pulse, like Signet’s hand closing around their own, and they cling to that sensation as Ballad clasps their shoulder.

Echo closes their eyes, and lets out a steadying breath.

For now, it is over.


	28. Epilogue

Laughter and light spill out of the door, then are quickly muffled once again when it shuts. Echo doesn't advance, cautiously holding their ground as they stare at their brother's back.

Ballad glances at them before looking back down at his hands. "You found me, then."

"There were only so many places to look." They step up beside him and drape their arms over the railing, letting out a loud, staged sigh as they stretch their back. "All in a day's hard work, huh?"

He gives a stifled laugh, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "Your Excerpt sure is something."

"There's always a different connotation behind that depending on who is saying it, but yeah. She is." Echo studies the distant lights of Perigean, knowing that somewhere are the lights of their family's home.

Ballad must be thinking of something similar. "Do you think you'll go home? She couldn't possibly still need you as a bodyguard."

"And what's there for me?" Before Ballad can get the chance to respond, Echo turns to hook their elbows over the railing and leans back to study the curve of Thyrsus as the glass walls stretch up towards the night sky. "Back to my life of crime?"

"We've got the school. Mom and Dad want to retire."

"Me? A teacher?" Echo snorts and glances at Ballad out of the corner of their eye. "What was going to be our big plan after all of this? After Advent... I don't know, took over the world or whatever."

Ballad's gaze lingers on the distant lights for a moment longer before dropping to the dark ground hundreds of feet below them. "It has always been about helping people. And before you say anything, Advent had been the best option for that."

Echo doesn't offer a snarky comeback. They can tell that Ballad has more he wants to add, but is trying to find the best way to phrase it.

"Until a few days ago, the States did not offer up an alternate solution," he finally says, fussing with the cuff of his shirtsleeve. “I can see now that there is logic and a sound structure behind the Excerpt’s suggestions for a way forward, but she kept them to herself for a _very_ long time. So I’m not going to apologize for my decision when I had literally no other option.”

"Ballad, I'm not… I'm not going to blame you. I get it, now." They lift their hand, intending to scrub the exhaustion from their face, but instead they contemplate their palm in the dim light. "I'm not in a position to accept whatever apology you might have thought up, either."

He leans over so that their shoulders press together, and Echo drops their hand to their side to enjoy their brother's warmth. "You've grown up a lot."

"Yeah."

"I mean it."

"I know..." They tilt their head so they can look at him better, and Ballad responds by reaching over to ruffle their hair and turn their face away.

"Don't look at me like that," he says with a sigh, and they can't help but laugh.

"Like what?" And, because they haven't grown up _that_ much, they ask, "With the eye patch or what?"

Ballad chuckles and shakes his head. "No, like you're all mature or something." He nudges Echo again, then loops his arm around their chest to pull them in for a rougher hair tousle. "You're still my dumb little sibling."

Echo squawks and tries to free themself from his grip, but they have a hard time against his height advantage.

The door to the hall opens again, and the two of them freeze to watch Signet slip out onto the balcony.

Ballad immediately releases Echo and snaps to attention. "Excerpt, Ma'am."

She waves a hand to dismiss the formality. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"He was just going inside," Echo says, aiming a pointed look in Ballad's direction.

He gives a fleeting, cheeky smirk before turning and bowing to Signet. "Congratulations on a successful strike against Advent."

"To save a Divine or to save a valuable asset: I've learned from experts." There's an edge to her voice, despite the polite smile in place. "But if you don't mind, I should like to speak to my bodyguard in private."

"Of course," he says with another stiff bow. "If you'll excuse me, Excerpt. Bodyguard."

Echo attempts to kick him, but he gracefully avoids the blow and heads back inside.

Once the door closes and the balcony is in relative silence once again, Echo resumes what they hope is a casual posture against the railing as they watch Signet move to join them.

"Enjoying your party, Lady Excerpt?" they tease, and Signet sighs as she lifts a hand to comb her fingers through their hair.

"It's Gig's party, not mine. The premier showing of his documentary about the last Excerpt." She locks her fingers around the back of their head and draws them in for a kiss.

Echo goes willingly, melting in to her embrace. "I've missed this," they say against her lips, even though they've seen her since the two groups reunited on Thyrsus, even though it's only been a few days.

"The Cadent told me what happened," she replies, and they can feel how her grip tightens on them ever so slightly. "Echo, to think that I sent you in there against Will after what happened..."

"Hey, no. It's fine. I'm fine." They lift both their hands to her face, leaning in to rest their foreheads together. "What's done is done, and I'm fine."

She wants to argue, or to apologize, or any number of things. They can feel the tension in her, the anticipation in the held breath.

So instead, they take a step back and hold out their hand. "Lady Excerpt, may I have this dance?"

Caught off guard, Signet stares at their palm, then into their eyes. Beneath all the chatter in the hall, the faint sound of music can be heard. Barely enough to figure out a rhythm, but it doesn't really matter.

She takes their hand, carefully, and lets them sweep her into a slow, gentle dance.

It's comfortable and familiar, unlike the charged energy between them the last time they danced. When Echo wore a mask and pretended to be a stranger, when they thought that they wouldn't mean anything else to her beyond her bodyguard.

Eventually, her posture eases, and her expression softens. "Echo, I would like to ask you a question."

"Of course."

"Do you wish to remain on Thyrsus?"

They slow to a stop and look up at her in confusion. "Do you not want me here?"

"No, I do. But it's not a question of what I want." Signet presses a hand to their cheek, but seems unwilling to say anything else.

So Echo lifts their hand to hers to twine their fingers together, and rises up on balls of their feet so they can leave a kiss on her lips. "Signet, what _do_ you want?"

The slightest shiver courses through her, and she takes a step closer, eliminating the already minimal space between them. "I would like..." she starts—slowly, hesitantly, as if this is new and different for her to consider. Her voice is faint, barely audible even over the muted sounds floating from the hall. Then she shakes her head and tries again. "I want you to stay with me."

"Then _let_ me." They press a kiss against the curve of her neck, just below her jaw. "I want to stay with you."

Her breath leaves her on a gentle sigh as she leans into them, and they allow themself the indulgence of wrapping their arm around her waist to keep her there. "It will be hard work from here on out. We are going to change the future of the States."

Echo brings her hand to their lips, letting the touch linger before they glance up at her. They watch her expression soften, concern giving way to relief and fondness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fuck fam we made it hi i honestly don't have the words right now thank you so much for reading and letting me be extremely indulgent I am just. gonna go cry now. 
> 
> 1) if you haven't seen all the amazing art yet, please [go look at it](https://twitter.com/i/moments/1096934589715468288) and thanks to Annie, Lu, and Ali for everything  
> 2) here's [the link to the 'master post'](https://lady-mab.dreamwidth.org/333339.html) of sorts that has a link out to the pin board and playlist i made, as well as some other links out 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed, because when i started this, there was literally me, three other people, and an empty void to yell into. and i'm nothing if not extremely on my own bullshit. come find me @littleladymab on twitter, and, you know, thanks!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot thank Dora (for beta-ing and encouraging), Lu (for art and utter delight), and Dianne (for lots of screaming) enough for all your help and support, and thank you everyone for just being generally enthused as i yelled about my tiny soft ship.


End file.
